


to bring these hollow words on back from

by old_blue



Series: Tabloid Journalism [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Animal Death, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Developing Relationship, Horror, Multi, Mystery, Not really though, POV Alternating, Past Suicide Attempt, References to Depression, Road Trip, Threesome, Weird Biology, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2020-11-26 20:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 50,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20936090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/old_blue/pseuds/old_blue
Summary: Venom said they could be heroes.Eddie's not quite sure they're ready for that, but maybe they don't have a choice right now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hey! I'm back! This is a sequel to Honeymoon. It's not really necessary to read that first, but might make some things clearer. Crossover with the MCU in the gentlest possible way. This story is very loosely based on the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, which might be a teeny tiny spoiler for the plot. The title comes from the song Orpheo Looks Back by Andrew Bird, which is also a very, very mild spoiler.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: discussion of depression, hospitalization, and a past suicide attempt

_Thursday, Sept 5_

_An exciting day today! I'm finally close to something here. I really, truly believe that now. I didn't know why all those terrible things were happening before, but now everything makes sense. It's like I'm finally seeing the patterns I was meant to see. I was lost, but not anymore._

_This is why I came out here. I'm absolutely sure of it now. That flat tire wasn't an accident! None of it was an accident!_

_I can feel it at night when I'm sleeping. That's when it's closest. The most pure. It hides during the day, I think. It hides from everyone else. If you haven't gotten close enough like I have, there’s no connection. That's why I can't really tell anyone else about it. They wouldn't understand. They're not ready._

_I almost have proof, though, so it's not all esoteric. I know it's not all in my head. I've captured some of this in photos. What I've got isn't enough to take back with me yet. But I'm close to a breakthrough. I'll hike back out there tomorrow and take more pictures. I'm sure I can get enough. Two more days will be enough time._

_But tonight, I'm going to sleep, and dream. And I'm going to wait for whatever it sends me. Hoping for good things tomorrow!_

* * *

Eddie wakes up in a really weird place.

Everything around him is white. So bright it hurts his eyes. He blinks and wipes at them for a long time before he can actually see anything but a blur.

The ceiling is covered in fluorescent lights, which is also… _weird_. He doesn't recognize the ceiling at all.

He's in a bed that's not his. He can tell right away because of the smell—the two of them are so good at smells now. And this is definitely not his bed.

He's lying on his back in a strange room in someone else’s bed. The bed has side rails like a hospital bed. The light is too bright above him. Suddenly, it's fifteen years ago and he's waking up in a tiny sterile room, wearing a vomit-stained paper gown, sick as a dog, trying to decide if he's reached the lowest low, or if that was the night before when he'd swallowed an entire bottle of pills. If he's back there again, then something terrible must have happened. And this is the moment when he should start freaking out.

But he's not. Which is also weird as hell.

It’s actually pretty comfortable for a hospital bed. Certainly better than the sorry excuse for a cot he spent those miserable two weeks on all those years ago. This must be a different place, a better place. Eddie curls onto his side. He’s so tired. He has to fight to keep his eyes open.

_**I don't like it here, Eddie. **_Venom’s voice is small, almost too quiet to hear.

“S’okay, V” His own voice sounds funny, slurring like he’s drunk. Eddie blinks at the white wall in front of him. He can’t remember how he got here. Or when. Or even where _here_ is. Venom’s still with him, so things can't be all bad. He clears his throat, tries to swallow past the dryness. “Where are we? What happened?”

_ **Don't know. We were… not aware.** _

“We were asleep? Both of us?”

_ **Yes.** _

That's weird. He can't remember Venom ever sleeping, really.

“Did they give us something to make us sleep?”

_ **Yes. I don't know what it is. I'm trying to metabolize it, but the chemical is hard to break down and remove from our system.** _

“Oh,” he says. Makes sense that he's feeling like this.

He's wearing the same black t-shirt he remembers putting on in the morning—the last morning he remembers, anyway—but his jeans are gone. He's wearing soft blue pants, instead. _Scrubs_, he decides, after a struggle to remember the word. He's seen Dan wearing something similar when he gets off work. It's not the first time he's woken up with no memory of where his pants have gone, but usually there's a reason.

He can't remember anything that happened after getting dressed in the morning, he realizes. He has no idea what time it is now.

There's a cotton ball under a piece of tape on the back of his hand. Eddie peels it off slowly and stares at the tiny dark spot of blood on the white cotton and then at his unmarked skin for a long time.

_**I healed that, **_Venom says.

“What?” He hadn't noticed zoning out just now, but he must’ve done it.

_ **The hole they made.** _

“Oh. Thanks.” That begs the question: who are _they? _“Did you see who took us?”

_ **No. But they were human.** _

Eddie supposes that's better than _not_ human.

He realizes he's been lying here looking at the same blank, white wall for a long time. It stands to reason that there's probably something else to look at behind him, maybe something that’ll give him a clue about where they are. Eddie rolls slowly to his other side, trying to ignore the dizziness that makes his head feel loose and wobbly.

Definitely a more interesting view this way. There's a room with matching white walls, a door with a small window, a larger… mirror? Another window? He can't tell from where he is, but it looks like one of those one-way windows cops like in interrogation rooms. A white plastic chair against the wall. Just moving his head to look around makes the room spin.

The bed rails must be up to keep him from falling out of the bed, he assumes. There's also a small plastic table next to him, a paper cup of ice water with a straw in it.

“Huh,” he says. That's… sort of nice. Whoever put it there must've known he'd wake up with a dry mouth. He reaches out and manages to grab the cup after a few awkward attempts to get his hand past the rail.

After drinking he lets his eyes close again and drifts for a little while. Venom doesn't pester him, which is so out of character that it bothers him a little. When he wakes again, he's more alert, enough that he's starting to get worried about where they are and how long they're going to be here.

Eddie scoots down past the rails and slowly sits up in the bed. The world tilts, then settles. He waits for something to happen, but nothing does. The white room stays the same.

_Venom? You there? _He's decided he should probably stop talking to Venom out loud. If this is a mental hospital that could be a bad move. He's almost hoping this _is_ a mental institution because the alternative is much, much worse.

_**I'm here, Eddie. **_Venom’s voice still sounds strange, like it's coming from far away. _**I don't like this place.**_

_I don't either, bud. _

Eddie looks down at his bare feet. The floor is cold, speckled linoleum, smells like disinfectant. Whatever drugs they've given him must be wearing off quickly because an icy spike of fear stabs through his guts.

This can't be a hospital because Venom was somehow asleep. There's no way that's a coincidence. Whoever took them knows what they are, and how to deal with them.

_Oh fuck_. This is _bad_.

Before he can start hyperventilating, the door makes a clicking sound—a lock disengaging, Eddie guesses—and opens. There's a man standing outside, dressed in a dark suit like an FBI agent, some kind of weapon Eddie doesn't recognize on his hip. Inexplicably, there's a goat next to him.

Eddie has to close his eyes for a moment and check again. And, yep, the goat’s still there.

For some reason, the sight of the goat derails his panic attack before it can get rolling. It's just too insane.

Venom is the one freaking out this time. _**Eddie! It's just one person. And he has a security badge. We can eat him and take it. Escape. We can get out of here, Eddie!**_

Eddie can't tell if there's anyone else outside the door. _Hold on, V. Just wait, _he thinks. Venom can't or won't come out right now, but Eddie thinks he could take this guy. He's not sure what the guy's weapon does, though. It would be a risk to tackle him.

Eddie watches the man hesitate there, in the doorway. The whole situation gets weirder the more he thinks about it. Why the hell would they send a single guard to bring food to a monster when Eddie knows these people are perfectly capable of rendering him and Venom totally harmless? The guy’s nervous, too, despite being a professional… whatever he is. Agent? Mercenary?

He can smell the adrenaline rolling off this guy in waves, the sour tang of sweat. The grass and shit smell of the goat. It makes him hungry, which is pretty fucked up.

_ **He's afraid, Eddie.** _

_I can see that._

The man steps slowly into the room, pulling the goat behind him. The animal walks in, chewing contentedly, head flicking from side to side, ears flopping, blank eyes staring at the walls.

Venom squirms uncomfortably in his guts.

_Wait, V… This is a test. _Eddie’s sure of it now. Makes no sense otherwise.

_ **A test?** _

_To see what we’ll do. To see if we’ll eat some random guy, someone we know nothing about, to steal his keycard. They want to know if we're willing to kill an innocent person to get out of here._

_ **Still worth it to escape.** _

_I can guarantee they've got a back-up plan. Unless they're total dickbags, they're not just going to let us eat this guy. And they're not going to let us escape this easily._

The man drops the goat’s leash and shuffles back toward the door, keeping a watchful eye on them. Venom growls in frustration when the door shuts.

Eddie stares at the goat and the goat stares back, still chewing. Eddie wonders what it's chewing on. He knows nothing about goats; the subject’s never come up in his research. It's kind of nice looking for a goat, he decides. Mostly white, with some brown on its head. Big ears.

_**Hungry, **_Venom whines._** Let's eat it.**_

“This is, like, a tame goat. It has a collar and everything.” He shakes his head. “I just… I can't.”

_ **Eat it.** _

“No. Uh uh, nope. I can't. Sorry.” He's eaten actual people before, but somehow a goat is crossing a line. He might be more fucked up than he thought.

_ **I'll eat it.** _

Eddie jumps up and starts pacing back and forth near the bed. “_Don't! _Just… Hang on.” V might not be able to come out right now, but Eddie’s pretty sure they can still take over his body, make him do whatever they want, like rip a goat’s throat out with his teeth. He shudders at the thought.

The goat watches him pace with mild eyes. Maybe it really is stupid, he thinks. Most animals are terrified of them.

He stops and takes a deep breath. “I don't want to eat this goat,” he says, as clearly as he can. “That's my choice. And I'll be pissed off at you if you make me eat it.”

He can feel Venom considering these words for a long time. _**This is what we talked about before? Consent. Respecting boundaries.**_

“Exactly,” Eddie agrees.

Another pause, then, _**Fine. But you need to find us something else to eat.**_

“I'm working on it,” he mumbles.

Whoever has them here must be listening. He takes a quick walk around the edges of the room, staying well clear of the goat, looking for any kind of intercom, but there's nothing.

_Fuck_, he's just going to have to look like an idiot, but he’s had forty years of practice, so… Eddie clears his throat and says, in a loud voice, “Uh, hey? Excuse me. We need to eat, like, soon, but I'm not gonna eat this goat. Can you take it away and bring us something else?”

_**Chocolate,**_ Venom says. _**Brains.**_

Eddie grimaces when his mouth starts to water. “Maybe some meat?” He can't quite bring himself to ask for brains. “Raw is fine. Or… or rare. And some chocolate? Not mixed together, though.”

Venom grumbles.

“Please?” he adds. These people might be total assholes, but it can't hurt to try to get on their good side while they come up with a plan to get the hell out of here.

They wait for a little while, Venom growing more and more impatient. Finally, the door opens again. The same guy is back, still nervous. He steps in quickly and grabs the goat’s lead rope, pulls it to the door. But before it closes, another person comes in behind him—a woman this time, wearing a white lab coat over a suit, the same weird weapon in a holster on her belt. It's not a gun. Eddie watches her warily. She's carrying a plastic tray with few covered plates on it, like the kind they bring hospital food on.

“Mr. Brock,” she says. “I'm going to come in and set this tray down on the table. Would you mind stepping back into the corner, please?”

That was fast. They must’ve been waiting for them to ask for food.

_**Eddie… **_Venom hisses. _**The door!**_

_Hold on, V. It's a test, remember?_

He steps back into the corner. Venom actually growls at him. _Trust me, V, _Eddie thinks, and the symbiote settles. But Eddie can still feel their unease.

The woman nods at him and steps forward, sets the tray down. She backs toward the door without another word and shuts it behind her. Venom sighs in Eddie's head.

_I know, V. Just trust me, okay?_

_ **I do, Eddie.** _

He nods to himself, walks over to the little plastic table, and checks under the covers. One plate is full of meat, raw chunks of steak, maybe? Another is dark chocolate. The third might be some kind of meat, but it's gray and lumpy. Eddie has no idea what it is, and it smells incredible despite looking like shit.

_ **Brains!** _

Eddie winces. “_God…_”

They eat everything. The brains first, which seem like they should taste terrible to Eddie, even if he can't stop shoveling them into his mouth. Then the beef, which Venom grumbles about. Then the chocolate as a kind of dessert. Eddie figures this way, he’ll be left with the taste of chocolate in his mouth instead of something dead.

He feels better already.

* * *

Venom doesn't know where they are or how they got here. But they know they don't like it.

This place isn't the Life Foundation, but the feeling of being trapped here, rendered helpless and small, is the same. _Worse_, because now Eddie is also in danger.

The room smells like chemicals, both familiar and new, the only biological traces left are flecks of human skin cells and hair, the lingering smell of the goat, the old smells of stress hormones layered on top of each other. This room obviously wasn't built to contain a Klyntar; there's a small gap under the door, enough space for them to squeeze through if they took a risk in this toxic atmosphere and left their host behind. The door looks solid, too, but Venom’s sure they could tear it open if they came out.

And yet… they _can't_ come out. There's something keeping them inside Eddie.

A sound—too low for their host’s ears to hear. Low enough to register as a vibration only. Like nothing they've ever encountered before. It doesn't hurt, but Venom feels like they would be vulnerable if they left the safety of Eddie’s body right now. They had tried while he was still sleeping, and their molecules had felt loose and slippery and they’d been forced to retreat back inside. Whatever it is, this vibration is dangerous.

Eddie is okay. Physiologically, he hasn't been harmed. Venom has checked, kept checking, almost obsessively, but his body’s systems are all functioning within their normal parameters. He's safe for now.

There were more chemicals hidden in the food they brought—Venom had been so hungry, they hadn't noticed until they'd already consumed everything. Then they'd had to consider the benefits of keeping all of that food versus regurgitating the whole meal, decided they could just deal with the consequences later. Anyway, Eddie probably would've gotten upset if they made him puke.

The chemicals they put in them this time don't seem that dangerous, but they are making their host’s reactions different, keeping him calm, modulating his brain chemistry. Venom can see the chemical binding to a certain type of brain receptor and enhancing the function—a small, harmless change. The symbiote could metabolize the foreign chemicals, clear Eddie’s system quickly, if they wanted to, but they see no point right now. It's hard on both of them when Eddie is freaking out.

Venom doesn't like it here, but Eddie said to wait—that they need time to think, to plan. Eddie sometimes has good ideas, especially about human things. And they're partners now, so Venom can be patient.

The door opens again, startling Eddie. Startling both of them, actually. Venom hadn't sensed anything on the other side.

After a moment, a man walks in, flanked by two other humans, both with weapons on their hips. Eddie’s eyes flick to the weapons, then to the human in the center.

The man in front is taller than Eddie, with darker skin, one eye is covered up with something. _Eye patch_, Eddie's memory supplies. He's wearing a long black coat made of animal skin—Venom can taste it in the air—a black shirt and pants, clothes very different than anything Eddie owns. This man doesn't smell of fear like the other humans.

Venom can feel their host recognize this man as the one in charge. Eddie hunches down in an act of submission, making himself appear smaller. Venom recognizes that this is a necessary human behavioral adaptation, but it bothers them that Eddie still does it. Eddie should know by now that _they_ will protect him. A true symbiote looks after their host; they don't need to cower anymore.

The man stands in the center of the room, watching them. The guards stay back by the door.

Venom doesn't trust this person. If this human is the team leader, then he’s the one who trapped them here, made them sleep when they didn't want to. He must know too much about what they are because he's the one making the vibration.

The man takes one step forward and puts out his hand. “Eddie Brock,” he says. “My name is Nick Fury.”

Eddie is flustered, surprised that this person wants to shake hands with them. He reaches out almost automatically and Venom hisses a warning in their head. Despite the dangerous vibration outside, they manifest sharp teeth in Eddie’s mouth, growl at the man’s outstretched hand. But their form quickly loses cohesion and they sink back into Eddie before they can even think about biting the man’s limb off at the wrist. Eddie jerks away, confused and afraid.

Venom is afraid now, too. They don't like this person. The way he looks at Eddie reminds them of the way Carlton Drake looked at Eddie, like something to be used up and discarded.

“S—sorry,” Eddie stutters and backs further away.

The man—_Fury_, he said—shrugs, easy, unoffended. “Not a problem.”

Venom can see it's an act, even if Eddie can't. This man is not afraid of them, but he _is_ unhappy with them, with the way Venom reacted just now. The other humans in the room—the ones who came in with this man—are tense, hands tight on their weapons.

_ **Eddie…** _

Eddie waves a hand by his ear—a sign that he wants Venom to shut up—and clears his throat. “Why are we here?” He's decided not to pretend that these people don't know what they are, Venom sees.

The man pulls the plastic chair from the wall to the center of the room and sits, folding his coat around him. “My job is to keep the world safe, Mr. Brock,” he says simply. Venom can't understand how that answers the question at all, but Eddie grows even more tense, heart thumping harder, vibrating against their biomass.

The man is silent for a long time, almost as if he can sense Eddie’s fear. Venom seeps up, staying just under the surface of Eddie's skin, ready to do anything necessary to defend their host.

But the man just keeps talking. “That job includes keeping track of anyone, _or anything_, that might pose a threat to our continued existence on this planet. And acting appropriately to neutralize those threats before they become a problem. You and your _guest…_ fall into that category.”

Eddie swallows hard, thinks about scratching at his arm, and forces himself still.

“However," the man continues. "Recent events have prompted us to… change our policies. We’ve adopted more of a live and let live approach to dealing with people like yourselves. But we've had eyes on the two of you for a while now.”

The man shifts in his chair. “Some of my colleagues have advocated for immediate and permanent containment. I'm not so sure that's the best approach. So far, the two of you haven’t done anything that might warrant immediate action. Based on your actions in stopping Carlton Drake, and your subsequent choice of victims… I’m not convinced you're a monster.”

“Then why bring us here?”

“I want you to do something for us.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. Venom bristles at the thought that they would do anything to help this kidnapper.

“Approximately one month ago, one of my agents disappeared," the man says slowly. "Despite my best efforts, I've been unable to locate her.”

Eddie sinks down onto the edge of the bed, distracted despite his fear. Their host is always distracted by information.

“Agent Michelle Savoy was on leave,” the man continues, “traveling across the country. She was an amateur photographer and she took a lot of photos along the way. It was a trip she'd always dreamed of taking, the trip of a lifetime. She checked in regularly with her friends and family until she ran into car trouble in Bailey, Oregon. While she was there, she sent some very concerning messages back home. Seems she might’ve found more than car trouble in Bailey. Then she dropped off the face of the earth.” Fury just stares at them for a moment. “I want you to find her.”

“I'm sorry for your loss, man, but…” Eddie shakes his head slowly. “I'm not a detective. I'm just a hack writer.”

“You found David Gorman.”

Venom can feel their host’s surprise. “How do you know about that?”

The man shrugs again. “We've been aware of the people from Mineral Springs for a while now. Their various… activities. As long as they keep to themselves, I'm more than happy to leave them alone.”

Eddie shifts on the bed. “If you already know everything about that, then you also know we didn't find David Gorman. He found _us_. I didn't do anything.”

“Doesn't matter how it happened. All I care about are results.”

“I don't know, man… Don't you have people for this sort of thing?”

“I _do_ have people. But I also answer to a committee. A committee which decides how best to spend this agency’s resources. And Agent Savoy’s case is not considered a matter of high importance. I've been granted considerable leeway in this matter, to conduct my own investigation into her disappearance, but so far I've been unsuccessful.

“This is important to me, Mr. Brock. I have access to resources that most governments can only dream of. _Trust me_. If she was out there, I would've found her.”

“If you're so sure she's not there? Why are you sending us?” Eddie always asks a lot of questions when he's trying to avoid doing something.

“Because I want to know where she _went_.” The man watches them for a while, head tilted just slightly to the side. Venom had always assumed this was a gesture of interest or confusion, but this man doesn't seem interested or confused. “Think of it as an audition,” he says.

“What if I don't want the part?”

“You can't turn this one down, Mr. Brock. It's the role of a lifetime.” The man’s words suggest he's making a joke, but he's not smiling. “If you do a decent job for us, show us that we can trust you… We’ll consider letting you continue to exist. Without interference,” he adds.

“So… this is more of a blackmail thing?” Eddie’s words are as light as the other man’s, but Venom can feel his heart rate increase, the sickening rush of adrenaline into his blood, like plunging into cold seawater. Venom understands the threat hidden in the man’s words just as well as Eddie does.

“You can think of it like that if it makes you feel better.” The man in black finally smiles, baring his teeth like a predator. Venom doesn't like it.

“Why me? Why us?” Eddie’s thinking that they're not ready for this, they're not heroes, they're barely surviving as is.

“I need someone without connections to this agency. You're a moderately well-known local journalist. Anyone looking into your background will find that and not much else. It's the perfect cover.”

“There are a lot of other journalists out there,” Eddie points out. “Some of them are even competent.”

“But most of them aren't bulletproof.”

Eddie grunts. “Touché.” His shoulders slump in defeat. Venom can feel how tired he is. Not for lack of sleep, but because they've been backed into a corner and given no options. It makes Eddie tired, but it makes Venom angry.

Eddie scratches his head with one finger, he's still wondering how they're going to get out of this, what might happen to them if they can't do what Fury’s asking for. “You think we're gonna find trouble up there?”

Fury stares back at them with his single cold eye. “I have no idea what you’re going to find.”

* * *

They sit in silence for a while after the door shuts.

Eddie’s thoughts are moving too quickly for Venom to follow, half-formed, disordered, scattered. Venom waits for Eddie to become calm again, for his systems to normalize. It's always hard to wait without acting.

Finally, Eddie shakes his head a little and they can feel his thoughts coming back into focus. “You said you wanted us to be heroes,” he says in a soft voice.

Venom’s relieved that Eddie’s talking again; they don't like it when he's quiet._ **I did say that. But I want us to decide who we help. I don't like this guy. He’s an asshole. He thinks he can threaten us.**_

“He _can_ threaten us, actually,” Eddie points out. He presses his head into his hands, curls his fingers painfully against his skin.

_ **I don't like this, Eddie.** _

“I know, V, I know. I don't like this either, but I don't think we have a choice,” he says. And Venom wishes they could come out and drape themselves over their host, comfort him.

They are very protective of Eddie. Venom can't decide if that's just because they're in a perfect symbiosis, or if it's something more. Something like love, an alien concept for a Klyntar. They've been thinking about the distinction between those two things a lot lately. How would they be able to tell the difference?

Humans are protective of Eddie, too, they've noticed. Anne. And also Dan. Maybe it's something intrinsic to Eddie. Maybe he just needs more protection than other adult humans.

If it's love, or something else, it doesn't matter, they've decided. They don't like it when someone tries to use their host. They don't like this Nick Fury.

Venom can only hope they get the chance to eat him some day.

* * *

There's a cardboard file box sitting on their coffee table when they get back to the apartment. Eddie stands in the doorway and stares at it.

Fury kept his word, at least. They were drugged again and blindfolded, despite Venom’s protests, and led out of the white room. The rest is still a blur to him, but at some point they ended up in the back of a van. They were driven around for a while and eventually dropped off in the Tenderloin in the middle of the night.

Eddie remembers coming here now, for a hunt, parking his bike in an alley behind a sketchy check-cashing place. He's surprised to find it’s still here and intact. Maybe Fury had something to do with that minor miracle, too.

They rode home in silence through the fog and empty streets.

Eddie sighs and drops his keys on top of the pile of junk and mail accumulating on the little table by the front door. His phone has materialized back in his pocket. He pulls it out and sees about a million unread texts from Annie, checks the date—it's been a day and a half. He closes his eyes. He's so damn tired.

When he opens them again, the box is still sitting there, waiting for him to deal with it. His bedroom is just a few steps further. He could go in there and roll himself up into his blankets and forget about everything for a while.

Venom stirs inside him. _**Eddie?**_

“I'm okay, V.” _He is okay_, he thinks. _They're_ okay. They can get through this.

He walks over and slumps down onto the sofa, stares at the box some more.

There's a cheery yellow post-it note on the lid that says _Eddie Brock and Guest. _He pulls the lid off almost reluctantly to reveal a bunch of documents organized into tidy folders. Eddie picks up an envelope, shakes out a series of glossy photographs of apparently random subjects—dead trees against a sunset sky, the side of a white building, a long stretch of highway flanked by tall pines, a speed limit sign, 75 mph, standing in a desert landscape. Some of them are actually pretty good, he thinks. And some, like a shot of a stick on the ground, are incomprehensible. Art he’s too much of an idiot to appreciate, maybe.

There are stacks and stacks of envelopes containing developed photos under that first one. Eddie sets them aside and pulls out a black moleskin journal he finds underneath. He flips through page after page of messy, but legible handwriting, each entry carefully dated, the scrawl getting more and more frantic as he progresses. This must be Agent Savoy’s journal. The last entry, in a loopy sprawling hand that slides almost diagonally across the page, is dated September 5th.

_An exciting day today! _

Eddie can't help agreeing with that sentiment. He turns a few more pages, but there’s nothing more; the last third of the journal is empty.

**“This belonged to the person we need to find?” **

Eddie hadn't even noticed Venom coming out. “Yeah.” He turns to the head floating over his shoulder and smiles. “Glad you're back, buddy.”

**“Me too.” **Venom slides past his cheek in a caress, looming over the journal. Eddie thinks they must be trying to read it. But then their jaw drops open and a huge tongue flops out and licks a page before Eddie can pull the book away.

“Gross, man!”

**“Hmmm…” **

“Anything?” he asks doubtfully.

**“Tastes like cellulose.”**

Eddie snorts, sets the journal down open on the table so the paper can dry. “Hope the clue that’s gonna break the case wasn't on that page.”

At the bottom of the box are more files. One looks like a bunch of reports from a therapist or psychiatrist. He's not really qualified to read those, thinks about calling Dan up later if he has time.

Most of the files are stamped _Confidential_—forensic and crime scene analysis presumably performed by Fury’s organization. The last thing in the box is a missing persons report with a photo clipped to the cover. The woman smiling back at him must be Agent Savoy.

She's black, maybe thirty years old. Her hair is cut short and neat, and she has a pleasant, unremarkable face, a radiant smile. Her arm is around the shoulder of another person who’s been cropped out of the photo. They're standing in front of a roadside sign that says, _Welcome to Colorful Colorado! _A flat plain under a blue sky stretches out behind them.

Eddie stares at the photo for a while. He'd gotten the impression that this was personal for Fury—either a young agent he felt responsible for or something more, a family connection, maybe. He's almost afraid to dig into this box, knowing that this woman is most likely dead, either by her own hand or by someone else’s, probably buried in a shallow grave somewhere.

He sets the photo carefully back down on the table. He really doesn't want to be the one to bring Fury that news.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, sorry! This was totally going to be the story where I started writing shorter chapters and updating more often. Can you believe I actually chopped this beast in half and then it grew that half back like a lizard regenerating its tail?
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: None really, except sex with an alien, discussion of mental illness.

_Tuesday, Sept 3_

_I had the same bizarre dream again last night. The one where I'm standing at the edge of the river. This time, I thought I could see something on the other side. I'm not sure what it was, but I really, really wanted to get there. More than I've ever wanted anything in my life. _

_It's so hard to describe, now that I'm awake, how real that felt. But I had the most intense feeling that there is something very important across the river._

_The weirdest thing about the dream is how much I remember. Every single detail! Almost like I was really there. I'm starting to think I was. I know that sounds crazy, but I feel like this place could be real. And it's somewhere close by. I don't know how that's possible. How can it be a real place when it seemed so alien? _

_I called Mari this morning and told her I might spend a few days here. I didn’t tell her about my dream. She’d think I’m being silly, staying here for that. I told her I’d catch up with her in Portland and show her all the pictures I took. She had some good ideas for spots around the city._

_I think I'll go out after lunch and take another look around. I swear I can feel something out there, almost like a voice telling me to go in a certain direction. I really want to know what will happen if I follow it._

* * *

It takes them two days of driving to get to Bailey, Oregon, which, as Eddie had already suspected, is a shithole.

Eddie's been to a lot of shitholes in his life; he’d like to think he's pretty good at recognizing them by now. And Bailey is indeed a grade-A, prime shithole. Honestly, he doesn't mind so much, considering that most of his life he’s been exactly the sort of person who belongs in a place like Bailey.

Eddie decided to rent a car for the trip, because traveling up to Oregon in the fall means rain, and nothing’s shittier than riding a bike soaking wet. But mostly because Fury gave him a credit card.

He ended up with a no-frills white Ford Focus, the type of car that screams rental because no one but a rental car company would ever buy such a piece of shit. He’d thought about getting something nicer on Fury’s dime, as a fuck you to the man for the kidnapping and the blackmail and all. But he realized pretty quickly there was realistically no way he could possibly make a dent in the guy's finances considering he must have a budget larger than some small countries.

And, anyway, he's supposed to be a broke reporter and nothing else; the Ford Focus is a better fit.

Venom grumbles for the first few hours of the drive because they don't like the car as much as the bike. The excitement of riding just isn't the same, they say. Eddie has to agree.

They don't make it very far up Interstate 5 that first day due to a late start. The rain starts just north of San Francisco, puddling in the road and slowing traffic. They end up staying the night in a cheap motel near Willows, California. The next day, it's raining even harder, and the bad weather follows them all the way up into Oregon. The drive is long and tedious as fuck—there's only so many soggy pine trees you can look at before they get old. Venom is mostly silent the second day, watching the scenery, Eddie guesses—but at least that gives him time to think about stuff.

The forensic and crime scene reports were useless—a bunch of fancy words to say they found nothing. The journal, though… Eddie’s pretty sure that's the key.

Most of Michelle’s journal—he's starting to think of her as Michelle now, instead of Agent Savoy—is normal. He’s read the whole thing over the past two days. Just her thoughts about her trip, hotel rooms, places she ate. A lot of it is boring crap about the technical aspects of photography: shutter speeds, and apertures, and her musings on the quality of the light each day. Eddie skipped through those sections quickly.

That all changes once she gets to Bailey. _Her handwriting_ changes.

The entry before she gets to Bailey, dated September 3rd, is brief, but normal. Michelle talks mostly about her plans for the trip, the places she's going to visit along the Oregon coast. She mentions she’s thinking about stopping along Highway 34, maybe getting some shots of the trees and clear cuts in the Siuslaw National Forest.

The next entry has very little about her car, other than she's sure the asshole who towed her is trying to rip her off by inventing a bunch of mechanical problems. She spends most of it writing about a vivid dream she had, something she’d never spent any space in her diary on before. She doesn't even mention being upset that her travel plans are ruined.

Eddie’s never understood people’s fascination with their dreams. On a collective consciousness level? Maybe. For a lucid dreamer? Sure, could be interesting to live in another world. But his dreams? They're random and stupid as fuck, if he can even remember them. And he certainly doesn't want to spend extra time there when most of his more memorable dreams are nightmares. He had an ex who kept a dream diary and Eddie had always dreaded her whipping it out to tell him about her latest, most boring dream.

Michelle’s dream is at least mildly interesting. The details she describes are vivid: a bleak, desert-like landscape, the howling wind, a muddy river, a road made of bizarre white bricks leading to the edge. She writes about wanting to cross the river, a weird certainty that something important is on the other side.

That dream and her obsession with it are the first signs that something’s wrong. After that, it's all downhill. Eddie feels weird reading her words, written in an increasingly sloppy and sprawling hand, so late after the fact—the final thoughts of someone slowly losing her mind. He feels like some dick who slowed down to gawk at an accident along the side of the road.

He puts his thoughts aside when they finally turn off Interstate 5. Highway 34 is at least more interesting. It twists and turns toward the Oregon coast, along a river through steep, shadowed canyons, winding past forests and clear cuts.

Venom stirred to life again when they passed the first billboards for one of those bizarre roadside attractions that are so common out here. Eddie couldn't help snorting at the name: _The Forest of Mystery._

_ **It says this place is in Bailey. That's where we're going.** _

“Trust me, V,” he'd said, feeling just a little bad about putting a damper on the symbiote’s enthusiasm, “we are not going to find the answers to all of life’s mysteries in Oregon along Highway 34.”

_ **What's the mystery then?** _

“There's no mystery, bud, sorry. It's just a tourist trap. They want people to stop here and buy gas. They've probably got a store selling t-shirts and shit and not much more.”

They finally make it to Bailey around noon. Eddie almost misses it in the rain, has to pull a u-turn and double back.

The whole town is barely more than a wide spot on the highway, squeezed into the spaces between the road and the forest, huddled down between steep hills. There's a single gas station, a bar-slash-pub that's attached to a sorry-looking motel—that's where they’ll be staying, the same dump Michelle stayed in—a greasy spoon diner, another bar that might be even less classy than the first, and, of course, The Forest of Mystery, which ends up being directly across the street from their motel. It is, as Eddie predicted, less impressive than the billboards made it out to be.

He parks next to a group of four Harleys sitting out in the rain in front of the Sawmill, Bar and Inn. _Inn _might be a little optimistic, Eddie thinks. It's only a few feet to the door, but he still manages to get pretty soaked on the way in.

There's no one in the tiny motel office. Inside, it’s all wood paneling and mangy animal heads, yellowed with old smoke, messy stacks of papers on the front desk surrounding an overflowing ashtray. There's a piece of cardboard taped to the front that says _Check in at Bar_, with an arrow pointing to a door off to the side. Eddie presumes this leads to the bar.

He dumps his wet jacket onto a wooden chair and pushes the door open. It's dark and smoky in the bar.

_**Poison,**_ Venom grumps.

_Sorry, bud._

There's an old jukebox playing low—something twangy—and a few guys in leather jackets sitting hunched over the bar counter, drinking their lunch in silence. They look like they belong to the bikes outside. More animal heads and some rusty saws tacked up on the walls. A woman behind the bar filling a mug at the tap. An older, bearded man in a red flannel shirt, sitting in a chair by the empty kitchen pass-through, reading a newspaper and smoking.

Everyone looks up when he walks in.

“Just a sec, hon,” the woman calls. She’s older, maybe late-fifties, bleached-blond hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She sets a still-dripping mug down in front of one of the bikers and saunters over, wiping her hands down the front of her apron. “What can I get for you?”

“I just need to check in,” Eddie says.

“Oh, yeah.” She pulls her apron off and sets it on the bar, gives it a perfunctory wipe. “No problem, I'll check you in. Dave!” she calls over her shoulder, “Got a guest here. Keep an eye.”

The old guy stubs his cigarette out with exaggerated slowness, sets his newspaper down, and gets up.

“This way, hon.”

Eddie follows the woman back through the door to the little room. “Damn this mess,” she mutters and starts sorting through the piles of paper on the desk, finally pulling out a blank sheet from a folder somewhere under the counter. “Traveling through?” she asks, picking up a pen and scribbling on a form.

“No, I'm staying for a few days.”

That earns him a look of surprise over the papers. “How many days, you thinkin'?”

He's not sure exactly. “Can I pay for three?”

“You can pay for as many as you want, hon,” she says, and goes back to writing.

Eddie sets the credit card on the desk, waits while the woman swipes it through her machine. It's too bad he can't spend Fury’s money on someplace nicer. There's still their food bill, though; that's usually pretty terrible.

She passes the paper over to him. “Fill this part out, here. Initial here and here.”

Eddie does it, then passes the paper back.

The woman stares down at it for a while, before looking up. “Eddie Brock,” she says slowly, almost like she's trying out his name.

Eddie tenses. He was never famous; there's no reason to expect someone up here would know who he is. And even if she does recognize his name, that's okay, right? He's just a reporter. There's no way anyone would associate him with Fury’s secret police.

He can feel Venom squirm inside him, ready for danger.

_It's okay, V. Chill._

But the weird moment passes without incident. “Nice to meet you, Eddie. I'm Lorraine. Dave’s my husband.” She jerks her head towards the bar. “We own this place. Welcome. You can park around back. Key will open that door back there, rooms are up through those stairs. Check out’s at eleven. If you gotta smoke in your room, use an ashtray. We serve lunch and dinner down here in the bar. If you want breakfast, head to Lenny’s down the street. You got some business in town?”

_Here we go,_ thinks Eddie. “Yeah, sort of. I'm a reporter. I'm writing a piece about the disappearance of Michelle Savoy.”

The woman actually smiles at that. “Now that's something!” She slaps a key down on the counter. “That poor girl. She stayed here, you know. Of course you know that, don't you? That's why you're here. Poor girl…” She shakes her head. “Kept to herself, mostly, so I couldn't tell you much at all about her. Shame what happened, though. Never been so busy around here as it was after she went missing what with the police and the FBI stickin’ their noses everywhere.

“Now we got a writer in town.” She grins at him and shakes her head again. “Sure is something… Can't wait to read about it,” she says.

“Me too,” Eddie replies, and she laughs.

* * *

Eddie lets out a long, unhappy sigh as soon as they open the door to their motel room.

_ **What?** _

The room looks perfectly adequate to Venom. It's dark and a little dusty, but it’s above a bar that serves food. And the smoke smell is not so bad in here. There's a bed and a TV, a bathroom. What more do they need?

“A desk would be nice. Or a table,” Eddie says. Eddie's getting better at picking up Venom’s less deliberate thoughts now that their symbiosis has grown stronger. He drops the file box and his bag on the floor, kicks the door shut, and then pats at his clothes, searching for his phone. Venom finds it in the front left pocket of his wet jacket, manifests a tendril to hand it to him.

“Thanks, man.”

Eddie checks the screen. There's a text message from a blocked number: _Enjoying Bailey so far? _It's obviously from Fury. Venom growls at the thought of this human monitoring their every move.

Eddie texts back _love it! _and adds a bunch of heart emojis to the message just to be a dick as far as Venom can tell. He shoves the phone back into his pocket, sighs again, and hauls the file box up onto the bed. He takes out the envelopes of photographs and starts sorting through them, arranging the pictures into lines. Something Venom remembers him doing before, back in their apartment.

“What do you think, V?”

Venom comes out to peer over Eddie’s shoulder at the pictures laid out on the bed. They like it when Eddie includes them in his work, even when it's boring. And they like it when Eddie talks out loud to them, the same way he’d talk to another human. Their host doesn't _need_ to talk out loud—they know what he knows, which Venom has reminded him of many times—but Eddie just enjoys talking to them.

It’s enough to make a symbiote swell with affection.

**“Hmmm,” **they say, pretending to look at the photos. When, really, they're thinking about how much they love Eddie.

_Love_.

It's a very new concept for a Klyntar to consider. Maybe the first time a Klyntar has ever considered it—_loving_ a host instead of just using one. Venom even stole Eddie’s phone one night when he wasn't paying attention, googled _what is love?_ and got a variety of very confusing answers. They concluded that there _is_ no real definition, not one humans can agree on, anyway. But Venom doesn’t need human words to describe what they already _know_. The wonderful mix of chemicals that Eddie’s brain produces whenever he thinks about the two of them together is real enough.

Eddie keeps on talking, oblivious to the symbiote's musings, caught up in the erratic progression of his thoughts. They should find that irritating, but instead it's endearing, just like everything else Eddie does. They've started to realize that this is a part of love, too.

“These are the last pictures she took, right?” Eddie points to a series of blurry photos that show a house made of white stone with tall, green trees around it. It looks halfway wrecked to Venom and not particularly interesting. They vaguely remember Eddie reading about a place like this in the diary—they weren't paying very close attention then.

**“Where is this house?”**

“She never actually says where it is, but it must be somewhere around here. She didn't have a car at this point, so it had to be something she could walk to easily while carrying her equipment.”

**“Hmmm,” **Venom says again. This time they _are_ thinking about the photos. They're not very informative; no single photo has the entire house in it or the surrounding area. Some are just close-up pictures of a wall or a piece of stone on the ground. Eddie said they were _artistic_. **“Why is this house important?”**

“I don't know, V. She wrote about it a lot. She thought she'd found something there.”

**“What did she find?” **They really weren't paying attention at all. The diary was very boring.

Eddie rubs his hands over his face. “She doesn't say.” He sits down on the bed, suddenly feeling tired. “Actually, I'm pretty sure she found nothing, V. Because there's nothing to find.”

Eddie pauses a long time before speaking again. _No_, not tired, Venom realizes. _Sad_. Talking about this is bothering him. Their host had been quiet on the drive here. And then quiet when they got to the hotel. Unusually so. Enough to make a symbiote worry.

“Human brains are pretty complicated, right? You've told me that before.”

Venom hums in acknowledgment.

“She was fine before she went on this trip. Happy. She had a good life, a career, hobbies, friends. But something happened. Something went wrong with her brain. And she just… she…” Eddie shrugs, troubled. His brain patterns are flashing in a familiar sequence that means he's remembering something bad. Not something that happened to Agent Savoy, something that happened to Eddie...

**“She had a psychotic break,” **Venom guesses. They've read a lot about human brains, trying to better understand the function of Eddie’s—because Eddie’s brain is so special—so they know a lot about the many ways things can go wrong.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Eddie sighs. “I think if we try retracing her steps, where she went those last few days, I don't know… maybe we’ll have some luck. Maybe there's something out there you can pick up on. A clue or a… a smell or something that Fury’s people missed. I just don't think this story’s gonna have a happy ending, if you know what I mean.”

Eddie’s sure that Michelle Savoy is dead, but Venom’s not. Fury may be an asshole, but he seems smart for a human—he doesn't think she's dead either. Otherwise, why would he kidnap them? Send them here to find her? If there was nothing out here to find?

Something Fury said to them when they were held prisoner struck Venom as odd, because Eddie thought it was odd. **“Nick Fury said she’s not here anymore. He said he would've found her if she was.”**

“Yeah, that…” Eddie still thinks that was a weird thing to say. “I don't know what he meant by that.”

**“He thinks she went somewhere else,” **Venom concludes. Fury had said as much, himself.

Eddie shrugs again. “He might’ve just meant she’s dead.”

**“He would have said that, then. Fury is not the kind of human who fucks around.”**

That startles a laugh out of Eddie, and his mood suddenly lifts. “No, he's not, is he?” He gets up from the bed, leaving the photos behind, still arranged in their careful lines. “You hungry?”

_That's_ more like it! Venom grins at him. **“Yes. Always.”**

* * *

Eddie has even more time to think about stuff over lunch at the bar downstairs.

Venom is preoccupied with the plate of fries in front of them—their third. He'd thought about ordering a burger, maybe a salad for a change, but the symbiote grumbled at the mere suggestion. Fries are fine, Eddie decides; they probably won't die of malnutrition in three days.

Now that he's here in Bailey, he’s honestly not sure where to start. The police and Fury’s people—disguised as Feds, he's pretty sure—have been over the whole place pretty thoroughly, according to the reports he's read. He has no idea how he's supposed to find anything if they had no luck.

He's a reporter, right? He can do this. He'll treat this the same as any other investigation, try to ignore the fact that their freedom and maybe their lives are on the line. When in doubt, Eddie’s found that stumbling around and annoying people until he runs into an interesting lead usually works for him.

What the hell else is he going to do?

The bikers that were sitting at the bar earlier are gone. Eddie’s not even sure they were locals. Dave’s nowhere in sight. Lorraine disappeared back into the kitchen after bringing their food out. He can always talk to her later. The garage that was working on Michelle Savoy’s car after it broke down is literally a twenty second walk from the motel, so he decides to start there.

The garage owner, Ray, is exactly what Eddie was expecting, based on Michelle’s description: a total dick. He’s a typical small-town redneck, a type Eddie has dealt with many times in the course of his work. Overweight, unkempt beard that's not doing much to hide his lack of chin, more food stains than grease stains on his blue work shirt. And more than likely a racist fuck as well, based on how he treated Michelle. Eddie dislikes the guy almost instantly.

“I already talked to the cops and the FBI about this,” Ray whines, slumping down in his chair.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “They don't like to talk to reporters, generally. Look, man, anything you could tell me will really help me out.”

The guy gives a dramatic sigh, like Eddie’s ruining his whole day just by existing. “Let’s see…” He chews in contemplation on his wad of tobacco for a moment before sucking it back down under his lip with an exaggerated slurp. “Got a call for a tow up on a forest service road. Flat tire. Went up there, met the lady. She didn't have a spare, so I hooked up her car, and towed her back here.”

“You fix her flat?”

“Yeah, but that wasn't her biggest problem.”

“How so?”

“When I got the car up on the lift, I could see the drive shaft was rusted through. Damn thing wasn't drivable in that condition. Junkyard didn't have the right parts, so I had to order it in.”

That part isn't a lie, at least; the forensic reports mention the car’s undercarriage was pretty much destroyed. Eddie writes it down, anyway.

“Lady disappeared before it got here. Now I got a special order I can't use and no fuckin’ money. FBI took the car, so I ain’t even got that. Wouldn't pay me for the work I already done on that piece of shit. That all?”

Eddie shuts his notepad, resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Yep.” This has been a waste of time, not a damn thing he didn't already know.

The guy grunts and heaves himself out of his chair.

_**Eat him, **_Venom suggests.

_No thanks. _He really doesn't want to find out what Ray tastes like. “How did she seem to you?” he asks, instead.

Ray looks up, apparently surprised by the question. “How do you mean?”

“When you got out there for the tow? Worried? Maybe something was bothering her?”

His eyes narrow and shift away, and he gives Eddie a sullen shrug. “How the hell am I supposed to know how she was feelin’? I ain't a fuckin’ shrink. Now, I got to get back to work.”

There are no customers waiting. Eddie can't even see a car up on a lift. The only other person in here—a teenage kid in blue coveralls—is just kicking back at a workbench, messing around on his phone.

“Just one more thing…” He says. He pulls his carefully folded map out of his back pocket, spreads it out on Ray’s desk, moving as slowly as possible because fuck this unhelpful asshole. “Can you show me the exact spot where you picked her up?”

* * *

Eddie drives their borrowed car out of town, back down Highway 34, looking for the turnoff to the road where Michelle Savoy’s car had a flat tire, he explains. Venom is just happy to be out of their hotel room again. Out exploring.

Eddie finds what he’s looking for eventually—after passing it and turning around a few times—a little gap in the endless rows of trees, marked with a small wooden sign that has a letter U and an S and a little picture of a tree, and the number, _3253_. The road is made of dirt and gravel. There are holes that Eddie calls _potholes_. They don't look dangerous to Venom, but Eddie explains that part of the road has been washed out from all the rain. Eddie doesn't think their shitty car will make it very far.

Venom’s happy enough to leave the car behind and hike up the road on foot.

The road twists and turns, following a narrow creek. The trees here are tall, taller than the trees around San Francisco, even the ones in parks, taller than any others Venom has seen on earth so far. It's raining lightly and the ground is wet. The air is cool and damp, heavy with moisture.

Eddie is not comfortable out here, but Venom is.

Venom likes human cities, despite the constant and sometimes dangerous noise, because they are full of interesting sights and smells, different foods to taste, and, of course, plenty of bad humans to eat.

This forest, though, is a nice change from the city.

It's quiet here, for one. Just the rain, and the low sound of the wind, the rustling of small animals on the ground and in the trees. Eddie’s hearing is not the best. Not because his ears don't function well, but because he’s so tuned to the constant buzz of the city that his brain filters out most sounds as irrelevant. At first, the relative silence here is like an empty void to their combined senses, but Eddie’s brain is starting to pay attention to the subtler noises around them.

And Venom can smell interesting smells. Smells they never encounter in the city—wet dirt, fungi, bacteria, minerals they are unfamiliar with, volatile plant resins.

Eddie keeps thinking they might see a deer or a bear, but Venom can sense no large animals nearby. Nor any trace of them—no smells, no sounds. It's more than a little disappointing; they were hoping for the chance to hunt.

Eddie’s annoyed at the rain and getting wet. He doesn't like the quiet out here. He’s thinking their car probably could’ve made it and walking was dumb, that they’ll find nothing useful, that this whole trip is a waste of time. He’s worrying about what will happen to them if they can’t find Michelle Savoy. He thinks they might have to run and hide from Nick Fury. They’ll have to leave his job and apartment behind, and Annie and Dan, and Mrs. Chen and—

Venom seeps out from under his skin, asking permission. Eddie stops and smiles at them.

“You wanna do the hiking for a while?”

**“Sure, Eddie.”**

It feels good to be out, to be the one in control of their shared body, to move them in perfect unison the way they were meant to move. Eddie’s bad thoughts quiet down, too, when they do this. He needs to be distracted sometimes, and he likes it when Venom’s in charge.

The smells are suddenly sharper, the taste of the air so much richer. Venom hurls them up a tree after a terrified squirrel, smashing through branches and digging deep gouges into the wood with their claws as they climb. They snap its neck with a twist of their tendrils and shove the whole thing into their mouth, swallow it down whole. Just a tiny snack, but still delicious.

Back down on the ground, they flick their tongue out to taste a dark berry on a thorny bush.

_Blackberry_, Eddie says.

It's too sour and doesn't have much nutritional value, just a small amount of sugar. Not all plants are bad to eat; chocolate comes from a bean, a fact that Venom had doubted until Eddie showed them a video about how it's made. Eddie likes the way the blackberry tastes, though, so Venom eats a few more, sliding their tongue carefully through the thorns to reach the berries. Eddie doesn't know the names of the other plants they see, which is okay; Venom can just look them up later. Eddie doesn't care about plants.

They move on in an easy lope, following the creek below the road, so they can keep out of sight in case any humans come by.

Venom has explored many planets, and the Klyntar hive mind offers memories of countless more. Worlds upon worlds—each one had its own unique chemical composition, its own smell, its own taste.

They remember a forest planet—no designation that the Klyntar were aware of. Their small reconnaissance team had been stranded, trapped on this unsuitable world, after their hijacked ship ran out of fuel. The dominant life forms were plants, towering structures with huge, feathery appendages that absorbed light from a nearby blue star. There were no large animals to inhabit, not enough to feed on. Their host bodies deteriorated quickly. Many of the team starved to death. Some turned on the others in their desperation, tearing both host and symbiote apart with teeth and claws.

Rescue had come with the arrival of a jump-capable research ship. The furry, six-limbed creatures that emerged were easy to overpower, not armed for combat. But they would also prove to be unsuitable hosts; they were plant-eaters, for one, and difficult to inhabit without extensive and energy-costly alterations. But, more importantly, their species had encountered the Klyntar before. And their homeworld was already well-guarded against invasion, bristling with specialized weapons that could hurt a Klyntar.

Venom and the other survivors of that failed mission piloted the ship to a central trade planet and swapped out their host bodies, fed discreetly, and disappeared into the crowds so they could not be traced. They eventually made it back to the Klyntar homeworld, crawling home in disgrace with the sad remains of their team.

They share these memories with Eddie, picking out their own individual experiences and chemical impressions of the place and putting them into a narrative his human brain can better understand. It takes a little effort—so many of their memories are part of the Klyntar hivemind, six-billion years of experiences; Eddie would be overwhelmed to receive so much information at once. But, they're getting better at thinking like a human.

_When are we gonna go into space, huh? _

Venom knows he's mostly joking. Eddie is fascinated by the idea of seeing other planets, alien species and new cultures, but terrified at the thought of being out in the vast emptiness of space.

Venom’s been to countless worlds, but they have no urge to travel any further because this one is the best. Because Eddie’s here.

**“Maybe someday,” **they say. **“But my kind are not welcome anywhere in the galaxy. I think we might run into trouble.”**

_Just like we do here, huh?_

**“Yes.” **Venom chuckles, and then, **“You want trouble, Eddie?” **Being out here, surrounded by all of these interesting smells and tastes has gotten Venom excited, so Eddie’s excited, too. And sex has always been an enjoyable and effective way to lift Eddie out of one of his dark moods. Why not go for it?

_What’re you thinking, V?_

**“Hmmm.” **They decide to be completely honest. **“Want to chase. Want to hunt.”**

_Oh, yeah? _Eddie’s thoughts have a teasing edge.

**“Yes, but… There’s nothing to hunt out here… except you,”** Venom says, and then they slip back down under the surface of Eddie’s skin, leaving their host unprotected and vulnerable in the forest. They curl up patiently to wait in the soft space between his lungs.

They can feel their host thinking this over. “Huh,” he says, finally, looking around.

Venom is just beginning to worry that they might have to clarify further, when Eddie suddenly lurches forward at a dead run, surprising them. The time between his decision to move and the movement is almost too fast for the symbiote to process.

Venom growls in excitement.

Eddie is not very fast, running on his own, but he _feels_ fast. He dodges between tree trunks, leaps over bushes. His lungs and heart strain to supply enough oxygen at first, but soon settle into peak efficiency, working smoothly as his adrenaline spikes.

It's all very thrilling. Eddie running hard, pretending he's being chased is enough to trigger the symbiote's most basic instincts to hunt and catch.

They can't help growling, _**Gonna get you, Eddie! **_

Eddie makes a low, strangled whine and sprints forward even faster, pushing himself in something approximating real panic. Venom longs to come out and actually chase him, wishing that this wasn't just pretend.

They run together, like that, for a while, until Eddie’s muscles are almost depleted of their localized supply of energy, until he's close to exhaustion. The hunt is almost over.

They wait until they reach the perfect spot along the edge of the creek.

And then Venom paralyzes one of Eddie’s legs for half a second, tripping him, sending him skidding down into soft dirt. They control the way he falls, reaching out with precise tendrils of biomass to grab and protect, shield his skin from thorns and plants with stinging hairs on the leaves, careful not to hurt him. Eddie claws and kicks at the ground, trying to get back up, but they force him over onto his back, pin his arms down on either side of his head.

Eddie’s laughing, breathing hard. He spits some pine needles out of his mouth, says, “V, you asshole…”

Eddie struggles hard against their control, tired muscles flexing, _but not really_. Eddie likes being held down when its Venom doing the holding. The chase and the fall, and now being restrained send a huge rush of endorphins into their system. After the cold spike of adrenaline, it feels like sinking down into warm mud. Soft and inviting. Eddie fights against their hold for approximately fifteen seconds and then relaxes, the way Venom knew he would. The frantic activity of their host’s neurons settles into a soothing, steady rhythm.

Venom shivers in delight.

They slide back out so they can loom over Eddie, wrap tendrils around and around his trembling body. **“Caught you,” **they say.

Eddie’s pupils are dilated wide and black, his breathing is slow and deep, mouth parted. He looks delicious like this, helpless in surrender. Prey brought down to the ground after a long hunt. Prey that’s given up and is just waiting to be eaten...

Eddie doesn't say anything back, but Venom knows what he wants. Because they want exactly the same thing. They force Eddie’s hands down to his belt. Clothes—both the use of them and their operation—are still baffling to a Klyntar, but it's easy enough to use Eddie’s procedural memory to move his deft fingers around, undoing his belt and opening his pants.

“_V, God, shit_…” Eddie says all in one breath as soon as Venom pulls his hard penis out. He's more than ready, just like the symbiote knew he would be.

Since they’d started having sex, Venom began exploring more of Eddie’s reproductive tract, parts they hadn't paid much attention to during those first few desperate weeks of their symbiosis. Nothing Eddie would be aware of consciously, except for that time they accidentally made Eddie piss himself on the sofa. Eddie got pretty mad at Venom for that. But how could a symbiote know that tiny muscle was doing so much work to hold back Eddie’s collected urine?

There were very few surprises after that. This part of Eddie’s physiology was relatively straightforward, Venom’s found, compared to some things about him. The process of arousal and ejaculation are basically automatic once Eddie gets excited enough. They've got this mostly figured out.

They stroke and stroke him at first, using everything they've learned about what Eddie likes best. Wrap matter that's still warmed to the temperature of Eddie’s blood around him and squeeze, because Eddie doesn't respond well to cold on his penis; that was something they learned during another failed experiment. They speed up and slow down their touches, responding to every shift and incremental change in their host’s responses.

Eddie closes his eyes and groans, which means he likes it. They can _feel_ how much he likes it.

Channels open rapid fire across his membranes when they've done something that's good, releasing energy generated by an imbalance of ions inside and outside of their host’s cells. That's the way Eddie’s nervous system and muscles work. Such a strange, complicated mechanism! Other hosts used similar systems, but Venom can't remember ever paying so much attention before.

They pay attention now because they love Eddie.

And they love to be everywhere inside Eddie, feeling everything at once, the way Eddie feels it. The closest they can come to the Klyntar process of spawning without actually doing it.

Spawning with Eddie feels incredible, but it's complicated. Finding a suitable place with the right combination of minerals is hard. When Eddie was buying and eating mineral supplements it was easy to spawn anywhere, even in their old shower with the cracked tiles and the mildew that lives near the drain.

But human sex is good, too. The sensations Eddie experiences are very similar to spawning. And they can do it anywhere, even in this forest, on the ground. Venom thinks they might like the human reproductive process more for that reason alone—they can be spontaneous; they can do whatever they want, whenever they want.

Right now, Eddie’s still thinking like prey, so they form a head with a mouth and many sharp, white teeth, slide down Eddie’s body to tease him with their tongue. They hold him still while they do this, so he can only twitch and tremble in their grasp, but can't get away. The thrill of fear that goes through their host only intensifies his arousal. They lick him and squeeze him with their mouth, letting their sharp teeth touch and prick, but never injure.

Eddie whimpers and closes his eyes, tips his head back in submission.

_**Yes. Yes, Eddie,**_ they think, because their only mouth is too busy to make sounds right now.

They flutter against his prostate from the inside, cradling the gland gently, letting their matter seep in and out of it to touch and taste.

It is interesting to experience sex with a partner who has discrete sexual organs. Organs that have different functions. Spawning with a Klyntar partner is a merging of two similar things—compatible biomatter meeting compatible biomatter, exchanging a predictable sequence of chemical signals.

Eddie has a penis. He has a prostate and a bulbourethral gland—Eddie hadn't even known the name of that one, Venom had to look it up. He has a urethra and a rectum to explore. He has skin that is not anywhere near his reproductive organs that is sensitive to touch, that Venom can pet and caress to bring Eddie pleasure. Each part feels different. Each part adds something new and interesting to sex.

They move solid biomass through him, making sure Eddie feels it now—creeping along his urethra, adding more pressure inside his already engorged penis. Not too much, but enough to make Eddie gasp and cry out. He's getting closer to completion with each touch and caress, being driven inexorably toward their goal.

But Eddie’s orgasms are always more rewarding if Venom can draw the stage of sexual excitation out longer, make their host wait for relief. They can manually override all of Eddie’s reflexes—prevent or delay ejaculation indefinitely. But, sometimes, it's more interesting to tease Eddie, to stop touching or to force him to think about something else while he's at the peak of arousal. The effect is almost exactly the same, only better.

Eddie moans and writhes underneath them. Judging by the rhythmic pattern of his brain activity and the tension in his muscles, Venom knows he's very close to ejaculation now. Their fun will soon come to an end. They can feel the rest of Eddie’s body getting ready to come, glands leaking, vesicles ripe with hormones.

Venom has a sudden great idea.

They form a second mouth, right next to Eddie’s ear. **“The car mechanic knows something,” **they say, low and slow. Eddie calls it their _scary voice_. **“He didn't want to talk to us.” **They don't know humans as well as Eddie does, not enough to tell when one is being evasive, but they're learning. And Eddie’s thoughts are always pretty easy to interpret when he's thinking through a problem.

Eddie snorts in surprise, easily distracted from his impending orgasm. He turns his head to look at them. “Are you helping me out with the case, now? I mean… beyond eating anyone who gets in our way?” His voice comes out a little breathless, but he's back in control again. His brain and body have been effectively reset into a calmer pattern.

**“Maybe.” **They haven't thought much about it—they were really only trying to distract Eddie in the best way they knew how—but now that they have thought about it, they _do_ want to help. They're a team now. More than that. They're _symbiotes_.

Eddie smiles at them, and the flood of warmth that follows is almost better than any orgasm. “Symbiotes, huh? I’d like that—you helping me, I mean.”

**“Later,”** they say. _Yes_, they want to help. They like the idea, too. They tuck their teeth in next to Eddie’s neck and give him an affectionate nudge. **“But right now, we want to come.”**

“Yeah? No shit,” Eddie laughs.

They wrap themselves over Eddie’s mouth to shut him up, and go right back to work getting him off. They press inside his ass, entering him roughly, squeeze his prostate from the inside and the outside, make Eddie stay still and take it. _They_ are in control here, and they want their host to know it. Eddie likes that, too.

From that point on, things move quickly. It’s still so strange to look forward to the anticipation of an orgasm, almost more than the orgasm itself. But that was all due to a quirk they'd discovered in Eddie’s brain—the release of dopamine as a precursor to anything good. Such a weird human trait, and something they'd never encountered anywhere else in the galaxy, but Venom is starting to appreciate it.

Then there's the best part, _The Moment._ Venom thinks of it like that because that's how Eddie thinks of it. That weird plateau, the point of no turning back, when Eddie is going to ejaculate, but hasn't yet. When Eddie becomes paradoxically more tense and more relaxed simultaneously.

They really, really like that moment.

Venom tried to draw it out once, but that experiment ended up being something of a disaster, too. Eddie had become nearly frantic, desperate and confused about what was happening, and the overwhelming sensations quickly become too irritating to be pleasurable. For either of them. Venom concluded that there was a point at which teasing Eddie tipped over from good to bad. And that was it.

Still… making _The Moment _last just a few seconds longer than normal was okay. Eddie said it was okay. Eddie would let them know exactly how much was too much. They uncover Eddie’s mouth so they can hear the sounds he’s making, which are never too loud for them. Eddie’s sounds make Venom happy.

But the best part of experiencing sex with Eddie is what Eddie gives them when they do this: _perfect symbiosis._

For a Klyntar, this part is easy—this nearly complete joining. For a creature like Eddie, so used to existing as a separate thing, the loss of himself into another being is terrifying. Eddie is scared, but Eddie loves them, so he does this for them. And that makes Venom love Eddie even more.

“Venom,” Eddie breathes.

And that's the signal; he's ready.

_**Yes,** _they say, and then they squeeze and pull and finally allow the release of a wave of neurotransmitters in Eddie’s brain. They open ion channels and they let Eddie come apart. And at the moment of orgasm, Eddie gives them exactly what they crave most.

Venom can still feel a brief, cold edge of Eddie’s fear as their host feels his sense of self slip away into _them_. And then—_oh!_—it's perfect!

Their fingers scrabble and pull at the dirt, sensitive skin pricked by sharp pine needles. Their nerves carry the pain signals to the brain, membranes opening and closing quickly, moving ions, but once it's there, the message stops, completely ignored, because something much more interesting is happening.

_They're_ happening.

They let their biomass go loose and slippery, sliding down under the solid part of their body into the topsoil to taste the dead remains of carbon-based life, the fungi, the bacteria just under the surface. Oxygen threatening to burn them but never touching them because they're safe and warm together, cells entwined, invulnerable. The alkaline taste of their reproductive fluid is bitter in their mouth. The rain is falling on their face, into their eyes, a leaf covered in stinging hairs is brushing their hand. They don't care. Everything feels too good to care about such trivial matters. It's the best thing.

So it's really too bad they don't get to enjoy it.

There’s something in the forest. Something getting louder, getting closer. Venom growls and snaps back inside Eddie, reluctantly letting go of their bond. They can feel their host come back to awareness more slowly.

“V..? What's up?” Eddie scrambles to his feet and looks around, blinking. “What's wrong?”

They let Eddie hear what they can hear: twigs breaking, feet stepping on pine needles and dirt, splashing through water, the birds have all gone quiet in the trees.

**_Someone’s coming,_** they say.

And then, from far too close, a voice calls out, “_Hello?_”

* * *

Eddie's still not sure how this guy managed to sneak up on them.

_**You're very distracting, Eddie, **_Venom purrs.

“_Fuck_, V,” Eddie mutters, and thinks _This exactly why we shouldn't be doing this shit out in the open_, while tucking himself back into his pants. He's still a little hard and he has to basically shove his dick in to get it to fit. It's even more difficult to come back from that weird state of perfection, where he's suddenly more and less than himself.

_Really not okay_, he thinks again, like, even beyond the fact that one of them is an alien goo monster.

Venom makes a sort of noncommittal grunt that means the symbiote isn't sorry about any of this.

“Hello?” the guy calls again. He's crashing through the ferns and nettles down the creek bank toward them. The loudest, most obvious thing in the forest, now that Eddie’s not in the middle of fucking his alien symbiote.

He pats his clothes down once more, to make sure everything’s back in place, combs his fingers through his hair to get the bits of bark and moss out of it. _Fuck_, he still looks like he's been rolling around in the bushes, which _technically_, he has been. “Yeah? Down here,” he calls back.

The guy is a little younger than Eddie. Definitely taller, and slimmer. Good-looking, with dark hair and suspicious, bright blue eyes, oddly pale skin for someone who looks like he spends a lot of time outdoors. He's wearing a green uniform, a backpack with a rain poncho over it, and a brown ranger’s hat.

_The kind Smokey the Bear wears_, Eddie thinks and chokes on a laugh. He’s still a little giddy from getting off, apparently. He can feel Venom’s puzzlement over why that's funny.

“Hey, uh, hi there,” the guy stutters. “Sorry to sneak up on you like that. I just… heard you out here.” He has a very slight accent that Eddie can't place. He puts out his hand to shake, says, “Rick Dunham. I work for the forest service.”

_Holy shit_, _it's Ranger fucking Rick!_ Eddie almost loses it, but covers his laughter with a cough, and shakes the guy’s hand. “Eddie,” he chokes out.

“Hi, Eddie. You doing okay out here?” Ranger Rick seems a little out of breath, almost like he's been chasing them. “It's just… I didn't see a car nearby…” He looks around as if waiting for it to appear next to them in the forest.

“Uh, yeah. We—” Eddie catches himself just in time. He's sobering up pretty quickly. “I'm fine. I, uh, left my car at the turnoff back at 34. Didn't think it would make it up the road.”

The guy nods. “I see.” Then he just stares at Eddie’s face for a while, like he's searching for something.

After fifteen seconds or so, it's starting to get a little uncomfortable, honestly, like the guy can somehow tell he was just fucking someone. Eddie shifts on his feet. Venom makes an impatient sound; the symbiote is eager to continue exploring, apparently.

“So, what are you doing out here?” the guy finally asks in the same eager voice. “You sure you don't need help? You look like you might need help.”

Eddie shrugs. “Just out for a walk.” Maybe he _does_ look like he needs help—he's pretty soaked and dirty, he’s not carrying a jacket or any water, he left his phone in the car which, yeah, probably that was dumb—but this guy seems overly concerned. They're not all _that_ far from the main road, and he's not doing anything illegal… right now. Also, he's a grown-ass adult; he can take care of himself. _Mostly_.

Eddie’s torn between telling this guy to fuck off with his slightly invasive questions—politely, of course—and outing himself as a reporter. It stands to reason that if Ranger Rick is always this nosy, he might have some information about their missing person.

This is not a vacation. He's here to get shit done, right? So he might as well go for it.

“Actually…” Eddie pauses to pull his notebook and a pen out of his pocket. “I'm a reporter. I'm looking into the disappearance of Michelle Savoy. Do you know anything about that?”

“Oh, wow. You’re a reporter!” The guy laughs and actually slaps his leg. “That's pretty darn cool. For the news? Are you on TV?”

“I used to be,” Eddie answers carefully. “So? Anything you could tell me about Michelle Savoy?”

“Michelle Savoy. She's the lady who went missing a few weeks back, isn't she?” The guy shakes his head. “Never met the woman, I’m afraid. But we’ve had people go missing out here before.”

Well, that's too bad; Eddie was hoping this guy might be useful. “How many people?”

“A few. The Siuslaw is a big place and we get a lot of visitors who don't know their way around a forest.” He gestures at Eddie as if he's the ultimate example.

Eddie ignores the guy’s implied insult. “You think she got lost?”

“I don't know what happened to her. Never met her, never even saw her out here while I was working. That's what I told the cops and the FBI, too. From what I gathered, she was acting a little strange before she went missing, so maybe…” The guy shrugs.

“Yeah.” Eddie writes _look into history of missing people_ in his notebook, because why the hell not, he's got nothing else to go on, and flips it closed.

_**Maybe they were absorbed by a giant fungus,**_ Venom muses.

_Seems unlikely, V._

He pulls a picture of the stone house from his pocket, surprisingly not mangled after he fell on it, and holds it up. “Do you know where this is? Have you ever seen this place?”

Rick takes the photo, squints at it for a few seconds. “No,” he says slowly. “Looks old, though. Was this taken around here?” He hands the photo back.

“I don't know. I'm just trying to track it down.” Eddie tucks the photo away again, tries to hide his disappointment.

“Could have been taken around here,” the guy continues. “Looks right for the area. But there's a lot of acreage to cover. Most of it is inaccessible except on foot. Could also be on private land, something owned by the timber companies.”

“Gotcha,” Eddie says. “Okay, man. Thanks for your help.”

The guy smiles and nods, but makes no move to go anywhere.

Eddie kinda wants to keep looking around. _Alone_. But he's got the feeling Ranger Rick is going to make that difficult. It's raining harder now—big drops gather on the branches above him and soak into his shirt—and he doubts they're going to find anything today, anyway.

“I'm just gonna head back to my car, I guess,” he says, mostly for Rick’s benefit. Venom grumbles in disappointment.

_Sorry, bud. I don't really want this guy following us around._

“Okay, well. Nice to meet you, Eddie. Stay safe out here.” But he just stands there, apparently waiting for them to do something.

“Right,” Eddie says. He turns around and starts awkwardly up the muddy creek bank. He's a little sore and shaky still from their game, but he manages to make it to the top without sliding back down. Once he's reached the road, he stops and looks back. Ranger Rick is still standing down there, watching them. He lifts his hand, grins, and gives Eddie a wave.

Eddie sighs and starts the long hike back to their car.

* * *

That night, in their hotel room, Eddie dreams. But this dream is not a normal Eddie dream.

Eddie’s dreams are mostly random—a collection of images and scenarios from his memory all jammed together in no particular order, defying all logic and reason. Venom has found them amusing on occasion. Sometimes they're boring, sometimes arousing, sometimes the dreams are disturbing, and they wake Eddie up.

This dream is not like those other dreams.

They're standing in front of a wide river of turbulent brown water, staring out upon a dry, rocky landscape that stretches to the horizon before them. Mountains rise in the far distance, surrounded by dark clouds. Venom can see flashes of lightning in the depths. The ground under their feet is flat, like they're standing on an old road, but the color isn't the same as the petroleum tar roads that humans build. This road is white and dusty and smells like calcium carbonate. A cold wind blows relentlessly over the landscape, flinging up white dust and debris, and something that tastes like calcium oxide ash. The sky is gray and nearly featureless. There are three bright spots behind the clouds. One is star; Venom can tell because of the light intensity. The other two are merely planets or moons.

Venom recognizes that some of these things are elements from Michelle Savoy’s diary, the description of her own dreams. But this goes far beyond words on a page—they _seem_ real. Venom knows that Eddie’s mind is very good at imagining things he's never seen before, supplying details where none exist. The details here are almost too rich to be imaginary. The air smells like a mix of iron oxide and calcium sulfide.

Eddie has no memory of this smell, Venom’s sure of it. But Venom does, and it's exactly correct—this is what calcium sulfide smells like.

Eddie’s not thinking about calcium sulfide. He's thinking about how to cross the river. He looks to his left and sees the twisted remains of a metal bridge—little more than rust, now—half-sunk into the swift current. He paces back to the right. Old pilings of white stone indicate where the bridge used to be attached. Eddie takes one step closer to the water, hesitates. He really wants to get across, despite the danger.

_**Why, Eddie?**_ Venom doesn't usually interact with Eddie during his dreams. They know it's a normal human brain process, essential for Eddie’s health. Interfering could hurt Eddie. They are mostly content just to watch while Eddie dreams. But Eddie seems so focused tonight, not at all like he usually is when his brain is sleeping.

Their host nods his head at the opposite bank. “It's there.”

_**What’s there? **_Venom can't see much of anything, even with Eddie’s very adequate eyes.

Eddie doesn't answer, he just keeps staring across the water. There are shapes in the distance, rising up out of the flat plain. Not mountains. They don't look like much to Venom, but Eddie thinks it might be a city.

Eddie becomes more agitated the longer they stay near the river. He starts pacing back and forth along the shore. Venom’s aware of his heart rate and breathing increasing in reality, his limbs moving restlessly in bed, tangling in the sheets. This doesn't seem like one of Eddie’s normal nightmares. They aren't being chased by something. They aren't falling from a great height into a dark void. Venom’s not burning to death in a fire again.

“I need to get across,” Eddie says, and then, before Venom can stop him, he steps off the bank into the river. The shock of the cold hitting their legs feels so real that they both freeze, and then they're being tugged away by the rushing water, and—

Eddie’s awake again. He sits up in bed and curls over, runs a shaking hand over his hair, mutters, “_Fuck_,” under his breath.

Venom comes out and twines around Eddie’s warm torso, pressing against him, offering comfort, and maybe seeking it, too. Their host is upset. _They_ are upset.

**“What was that dream, Eddie?”**

Eddie takes a deep breath and lets it out again. His heart starts to slow down, closer to a normal rhythm. “Don't know, V, sorry. Nightmare, I guess. Spent too much time reading that journal.” He laughs a little, but he's scared still.

Even after Eddie is calm again, he doesn't go back to sleep. He lies still in the dark, eyes open toward the ceiling but not seeing anything. And his thoughts are moving quickly—flashes of the dream, random worries, dark memories—all tumbling over each other, as muddy and turbulent as the river they'd seen.

Not words—they're too simple for that—just what Venom thinks of as _pre-words_, the step before Eddie’s thoughts become conscious. And the only coherence Venom can decipher is Eddie thinking _there's_ _something out there, I found it, it's there, it's there _over and over again.

Venom listens to Eddie’s half-formed thoughts, and they worry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's official now that I can't be brief to save my life.
> 
> I ended up cutting this chapter in half when it got unmanageable, so this part is mostly exposition. Sorry! Good news is the second half should appear pretty soon, as soon as I get my ass in gear and finish it up. 
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading!

_Monday, Sept 2_

_Fuck Bailey and their fucked up, backwoods, unmaintained roads! And fuck Billy Bob Joe or whatever the fuck his name is, and fuck his scam business! I have no idea how they managed to mess up my baby so bad, but those motherfuckers did it._

_And fuck the rain._

_(Yes. I feel better now. I’ll write more later. I had the weirdest dream last night!)_

* * *

Eddie wakes up in the morning before the sun has even risen, which is not at all like him. The first thing he says is, “Do you feel like someone’s watching us here?”

Venom has to think before answering. Is this the kind of question that Eddie calls _rhetorical_, where there is no real answer? Venom decides it's not.

_**No, I don't sense anything, **_they say. Fury might be watching them. Venom has no idea how, but he seems clever enough for a human to manage it.

Eddie doesn’t respond. He lies still and stares up at the ceiling for a long time. He’s awake, but his brain doesn’t feel ready be awake yet, so Venom says, _**Go back to sleep, Eddie. **_

Eddie doesn’t go back to sleep. He gets out of bed and starts reading.

He picks up the diary again, going over the parts about the dreams, comparing the words on the page to the dream he had last night, chewing on the skin around his fingernail. Venom will have to heal it later, when Eddie’s done.

Eventually, he puts down the diary and picks up another stack of papers from the file box. One of the crime scene reports, Venom remembers. He reads about what they found in Agent Savoy’s motel room. Not this exact room, but one just down the hall. Eddie’s oddly relieved by that.

Venom thinks they should break in and check for clues—that's what the detectives on TV would do. They think about suggesting this to Eddie later, when he’s not so distracted.

Agent Savoy disappeared on September 6th, or the night before. No one’s sure because no one saw her. She left all of her things behind in the room. Her diary, her photography equipment, her clothes, and her phone. Eddie is bothered by the cameras, but Venom doesn't know why.

Eddie gets up and digs around in the box until he finds a list of everything that was found in the room, marked _Evidence_.

It’s hard sometimes for Venom, when Eddie gets like this. They have access to all of Eddie’s memories and experiences, but his motivations, his reasoning, can still be opaque to them. _Alien_. They don't know what to look for in the vast expanse of Eddie’s stored knowledge, they don't know what’s important because they can't connect the present to the past as easily as Eddie can. And Eddie has trouble thinking about one thing at a time; his thoughts are _disordered_, according to the internet.

So they give up trying to decipher what Eddie’s thinking about right now—he’ll tell them when he figures it out, anyway.

Eddie chews on his finger while staring at the list. Venom seeps out, covers his vulnerable skin with a thin layer of tougher biomass. It's the least they can do to protect their host from himself. Eddie doesn't seem to notice.

“Hey, V, this is weird,” he finally says.

They're already half-out anyway, so they make a mouth to talk with. Eddie likes that. **“What's weird?”**

“She left her cameras behind. One digital camera and one film camera.”

**“Yes.” **Venom actually thinks it's weirder that she left her phone; humans seem to have an unusual attachment to the things. But Eddie sometimes forgets his phone, which always makes Anne mad. She says Eddie should be more responsible.

“Michelle was trying to get away from her phone, remember? Unplug, or something… She wrote about it in her diary. But photography was the reason she was here. You'd think she'd want to get pictures of… whatever she thought she’d found out there.”

Venom reads the list over Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s already read it, so they know most of what's on it, but sometimes their host misses things when he's reading too quickly. Things they don't miss. **“This says the digital camera was damaged when they found it. She didn't bring it with her because it didn't work.”**

Eddie grunts. “Maybe. Why leave the other one, though?”

**“She didn't want to carry it,”** Venom guesses. They're starting to get the hang of thinking like a human.

“Or… she wasn’t thinking rationally because she went fucking nuts.” Eddie's upset again.

**“Or she was in a hurry,” **Venom grumbles, slightly annoyed at Eddie’s sudden bad mood. That seems to be happening a lot more lately. **“And she didn't want to carry her camera.”**

Eddie’s mood abruptly shifts again, and he makes a thoughtful sound this time. “She was in a hurry, for some reason,” he says slowly, thinking again.

Venom spills out and folds over and around Eddie. They want to think the way Eddie thinks. They love Eddie and they want to help. **“Someone was chasing her,” **they continue. **“They were hungry and wanted to eat her.”**

Eddie snorts at that.

Venom contracts slightly, tendrils of biomass shrinking back. **“Why is that funny?” **They like making Eddie laugh, but they weren't trying to make a joke this time; they were helping.

“You think everything is about food and eating.”

Isn't that what humans do? Extrapolate from their own experiences and desires to predict the motivations of others? Eddie said that was called _empathy_. **“Because _I'm_ hungry.” **

“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie gives them a pat and gets up. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

**“Yes,” **they say, because all of this helping has made them ravenous, and they will never say no to food.

* * *

Eddie felt strange this morning when he woke up. Like reality had shifted overnight as he slept, like the world tilted off its axis somehow. _The dream_, he thinks. Stress, probably. Fury’s bullshit hanging over them. He's not sure what else is wrong.

He could feel his symbiote's concern all morning, a constant, hovering presence, but chose not to comment on it because feeding Venom’s paranoia will just end up feeding his own. He's fine, anyway. He feels better after having a shower and some breakfast, a shitload of coffee. Almost back to normal.

He waits until ten or so when the rain finally lets up, grabs his notebook and pen, and jogs across the highway to the Forest of Mystery. The gift shop is a small, squat building with a fake log cabin facade on the front. The gravel parking lot in front has only one car in it—a beat to shit Toyota Camry. The way it's parked off to the side makes Eddie think this must belong to somebody who works here. The actual attraction has a tall wooden fence around it, presumably, to keep out people who didn’t pay.

Bells jangle above him when he pushes the door open. He can feel Venom react to the sound, a strange twisting in his chest.

It's pretty tight inside—filled to bursting with shelves and tables covered in junk. There’s a girl—_a young woman_, he should probably say if he doesn’t want to sound like a dick—sitting on a tall stool behind the wooden counter at the back of the store. Her hair is hacked off on one side and dyed a shocking pink, and she's dressed like someone who came straight out of the 70’s punk scene.

_Kids these days, _he thinks. _He’s_ too young to have been around for that shit. Venom chuckles.

She's reading something, but she's also clearly watching him over the edge of the book as Eddie wanders around. He decides to ignore her for a bit and have a look at the store first. There's all the usual tourist crap for sale: bins of rocks and polished crystal, mugs, a bunch of useless stuff carved out of wood, dream catchers, and keychains. Shit no one really needs. Eddie picks up a little owl made of rocks glued together. He's not at all surprised to find a _Made in China_ sticker on the bottom.

He stops in front of a shelf of books. Tons of histories of the Pacific Northwest, a bunch on the history of logging, guides to identifying trees, birds, and wildflowers, and spooky campfire stories. Nothing he's interested in.

Venom was whining about being hungry earlier, but the alien is quiet now, apparently sated after eating the equivalent of three normal-sized breakfasts. It's as good a time as any to ask some questions. He wanders over to the counter at the back. The girl—_young woman_—sets her book down and sits up straighter.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. She's been staring at him since he walked in, so he might as well introduce himself. “I'm—”

“You're that reporter, aren't you?”

He wonders who she talked to. “Yep, that's me. I'm Eddie.”

“Elle.” She points to the badge pinned to her carefully distressed shirt. “It's nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Likewise. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

Elle sets her book down and crosses her arms, like she's preparing herself for a challenge. “I'll only answer your questions if you buy something.”

“Really?” Eddie can't help smirking a little at her hustle.

“Hey, it's the off-season. I get a bonus for everything I sell. And I'm saving up to pay for college. I want to be a nurse someday.”

Eddie lifts one eyebrow. “Really?”

“Nah, not really. That line works sometimes, though.”

Eddie sighs dramatically, but he drags his wallet out of his back pocket. “How much for the magical mystery tour?”

“Three bucks. The old-growth trees back there are pretty neat, if you're into trees.”

Eddie's not that into trees, but three bucks is reasonable. He puts a twenty down on the counter. “And give me one of those shirts.” He nods at the shelf behind her. “A medium.”

Elle pulls down a black shirt with_ I got lost in the Forest of Mystery_ written across the front. He has a collection of shitty shirts from every shitty place he's been; this one should fit right in. Elle rings him up.

“Keep the change,” Eddie says. “I hear nursing school is expensive these days.”

The corner of her mouth quirks up before the change disappears into her pocket. “So?” She crosses her arms again. “What do you want to know?”

“I'm writing an article about Michelle Savoy. The woman who disappeared. Did you ever talk to her?”

“Twice. She came in here a couple times to ask about stuff. She was nice. I liked her. I'm sorry she's gone.”

That's basically what Fury’s reports said. He pulls out his notebook and pen anyway. “What did she ask about?”

“The first time she came in, she just asked about any good places to hike around here where she could see old clear-cuts. She wanted to get some pictures, I guess. We talked about photography for a while. You know, just regular tourist stuff…”

“What about the second time?”

“The second time she was acting a little weird.”

“Weird how?”

“I don't know… Kinda frantic? Super intense? She wanted to know if there was a house made of white stone somewhere around here. I told her if there is, I've never seen it. She left pretty quick after that. That was… two days before she disappeared, I think. I didn't see her again.”

Eddie writes that down. “Did Ms. Savoy ever go on the tour?”

Elle frowns. “No. I told her about the trees, but she didn't seem interested. She was with the FBI or something, right? That's why there was such a big investigation?”

“Something like that,” Eddie says. “What do you think happened to her?”

“Honestly? I think she had an accident out there and died. It happens sometimes. Even to FBI agents.”

Eddie nods, looks around at the little gift shop. “Can I ask you who owns this place?”

“A man named Mr. Jason owns it. He's my boss, I guess. He's some rich guy who moved out here about thirty years ago. He's super old now, I’ve never actually seen him. I don't think he ever comes out of his house.”

Eddie writes all of that down, too. Who knows what might be useful later? “Is Jason his first name or his last name?”

“I don't know, sorry. I honestly don't know him at all. I don't think anyone around here really does. He just signs my paycheck. My manager, Sandy, might talk to him sometimes, but she’s visiting family out of state for a couple weeks. I can ask her about him when she gets back.”

“Eh, that's okay.” Hopefully, he won't be here that long. Eddie checks the windows at the front of the store. Doesn't look like it's raining again, so they should be good to go. “Uh, so, how do I get to the Forest of Mystery?”

“It's just through that door back there.” Elle points to a glass door to their left. “Right next to the bathrooms. We’re doing self-guided tours right now because I'm the only one working. You just head out there, and follow the numbered signs along the trail. Watch out for the mud.”

“Right.” He can probably handle that. “Just one more thing… Do you know if there's a library or a cultural center nearby where I could look up some of the town’s history?”

Elle squints a little, thinking it over. “I don't know if we have anything like that, but Mrs. K knows her shit if you're interested in talking to someone. She's really into history. That's, like, her hobby or something.”

“Mrs. K?”

“Yeah. Mrs. Koslowski. She helped Mr. Jason with some of the exhibits on the tour. She’s our local historian, I guess.”

“She got a first name?”

“Probably, but I don't know it. Everyone just calls her Mrs. K. She used to be a teacher. She lives in a cabin right off 34, on County Road 2046, just across the creek. Only thing there, you can't miss it.”

He starts to write, _Mrs. Koslowski, county roa— _and his pen craps out. Eddie shakes it and tries again. Nothing, just a fading red scratch on the paper.

“Huh,” he says, staring down at the thing. He kinda liked that pen, had gotten oddly attached since they'd been together.

“Here.” Elle hands him a ballpoint pen from her cup. “Keep it.”

_**Iron oxide,**_ Venom says, for apparently no reason at all.

Eddie takes the pen, ignores Venom. “Uh, thanks.” He shoves his old pen back into his pocket, because he's not quite ready to toss it away, finishes writing, _county road 2046. _“You got a number for her?”

“She doesn't even have a phone, so…” Elle shrugs.

“You think she'd talk to someone like me?” He grins at her.

Elle smiles back, her first real smile. It's only slightly sardonic. “Yeah, she’ll talk to anyone who’ll listen. Most people around here think she's nuts, but, I don't know…” She shrugs again with one shoulder. “I like her.”

Eddie picks up his new t-shirt. “Alright. Thanks for your time.”

“No problem. Thanks for the change.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waves at her over his shoulder as he pushes the door open.

The Forest of Mystery is a pretty standard roadside affair—the path leads visitors through a series of exhibits documenting various spooky forest mysteries. Mostly disappearances, Eddie notes.

They stop at a very minimalist recreation of a lumber camp—basically just an old shed with a few rusted tools stuck on it, windows you can look inside and see a table, some chairs, and an old cast-iron stove. The sign here has a story about a whole logging crew that went missing in 1910. Twenty-four men just disappeared, leaving behind an empty mess hall with the table still set for dinner.

_**Where did they go? **_Venom asks.

Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets. It's pretty cold out here. “Don't know, V. That's why it's a mystery, I guess.”

It's probably not really a mystery, he's thinking. These guys most likely got a better offer somewhere else, took off with some of the boss’s equipment. Easier for a timber company to say they disappeared into the magic forest than admit their wages and working conditions sucked.

They walk on, further down the trail. There's a shack with a skewed floor and walls that makes it look not-tilted when in fact it is. Venom scoffs at the illusion, declares it a silly trick designed to fool simple beings with simple brains.

They stop in another little cabin with a sloping floor and ceiling, one short wall and one normal-sized wall.

“Forced perspective,” Eddie explains. “Human brains use shortcuts to decide how big things are, so a short person looks super tall next to that short wall because the brain just assumes it's a normal wall.”

_**Like I said, simple brains,**_ Venom says, so smugly that Eddie can't help smiling.

“Fuck off, V,” he laughs.

The path leads them to a pretty big hollow log that Eddie has to stoop down to fit through. If he were a kid, he'd probably get a kick out of it.

The living trees are nice out here, as promised. Big. He honestly didn't know they got this big up in Oregon. Some of them look like what he imagines giant redwoods would look like. He hasn't been out to see those yet, despite living so close. He and Venom should do that, he thinks, if they’re still alive after this. Venom would probably enjoy it.

The tree in front of them must be five feet across. Eddie steps up and gives the trunk a hug, but he can't even get his arms halfway around.

_**Let’s climb it,**_ Venom says. _**There might be a squirrel up there.**_

Eddie steps back and stares up and up and up. He can't even really see the top from down here. “No thanks, man, I'm good.”

The trail loops back around through the old growth forest. At one point on the path, they can see a house through the trees. Eddie stops and stares. This must be the mysterious Mr. Jason’s house—the guy who owns this place. It's a pretty standard log cabin-type structure, only it's the size of a small mansion.

_**It's a house,**_ Venom grumps.

Eddie's stomach growls. He’s hungry, and not in the normal way—in the way that means Venom needs to eat something big soon. He's been more aware of that lately, the way people’s heads can look so damn tasty sometimes. It's seriously fucked up.

He chooses to ignore the hunger for now. They have shit to do, and no one bad enough to eat yet. He squints at the house through the trees. “Something weird about it, though, right?” He can't quite figure out what's wrong with what he's seeing.

_**There are no windows,**_ Venom points out, which, _yeah_, that's why it's weird.

He can't see the whole building, but the parts of the two sides he can see don't have anything that look like windows. “Huh, that's kinda… strange, don't you think?”

_ **No. It's just a house.** _

Eddie frowns. “Yeah, V, but most people like windows on their houses. Most _humans_ like windows on their houses,” he amends. _Fucking aliens. _

He takes his phone out and tries to get a picture. There are too many trees in the way and the camera on his phone sucks. Venom comes out of his shoulder so they can both stare down at his shitty attempt at photography.

Eddie twists it around. “I don't know, V, what do you think? Could be Bigfoot if you squint.”

Venom makes a sound that's halfway between exasperated and fond, which makes Eddie smile.

A few minutes later, the rain starts up again. Not in a gradual way, but in that zero-to-sixty way it always seems to do around here, just dumping down on them with no warning. They skip the last few exhibits and dash back across the street to the motel, getting completely fucking soaked on the way.

They didn't get much for their trouble, but Eddie guesses the Forest of Mystery was worth the three dollars he spent.

* * *

After an unsatisfying lunch, Eddie drives them down the road to look for Mrs. Koslowski’s house.

It isn't very far. They turn onto a dirt road and drive through the trees for a while. It's dark down here in the canyon and cool and very green. Venom wants to get out of the car and explore, find something delicious to eat.

The dirt road ends at a river. _Creek_, Eddie corrects them. Venom’s not sure what the difference is between a creek and a river. Eddie doesn't know either, apparently.

They get out of the car and Eddie just stands in the rain for a minute, thinking. There's a small house made of grey rocks and wooden logs across the creek from them. No way to reach it except for a narrow bridge, only wide enough for a single human to walk across. There's a gate at the end with a latch, but no lock.

“This must be the place,” Eddie says, very quietly.

That seems like the type of statement that doesn't require a response, so Venom stays silent.

Eddie opens the gate and they walk across the bridge. The water below them looks cold and clear, rushing by under their feet. This creek is much bigger than the small creek they walked next to yesterday and, yet, it's still not big enough to be called a river according to Eddie. Venom can see the sleek bodies of fish slipping over the rocks when Eddie looks down, brown and spotted. _Trout_, Eddie's brain supplies. The same creek is right behind the motel. Their host probably won't want to go fishing right now, but maybe later…

_**We need to eat soon,**_ they say.

“We just ate,” Eddie mutters. He's being deliberately stupid again. Sometimes this strategy works for Eddie when he's trying to fool other humans. But it never works on Venom.

_**You know what I mean. **_They send Eddie images of muscle, and blood, and brains, bones broken and cracked apart to reveal the marrow inside. Delicious living flesh.

Eddie stops in the middle of the bridge and winces. “Jeez, V,” he whispers. _I know, alright? There's just not a lot of bad people to eat here. We’ll just… we’ll find a deer or something, okay?_

_**No deer around here.**_ They can't help sounding disappointed. But they won't be able to keep Eddie safe if they don't eat the right things. They've gone longer without before, but not much longer.

_Squirrels, then._

_**Fish! **_Venom insists. They like the water and they like the way fish taste.

_Fine, we’ll go fishing tonight. Just shut up, okay? I need to concentrate._

_**Okay, Eddie.**_ Yes, they can wait for fish.

They step off the bridge on the other side and up onto a wooden deck around the house. Dogs start to bark before Eddie’s hand even touches the door. Big dogs, from the incredibly loud sound they're making. Venom rises up to the surface of Eddie’s skin. Dogs are no match for them, but the sounds these dogs are making hurt!

_Cut it out, V. Just… be cool. _

_**They're too loud! **_Venom growls. _**We should eat them.**_

_Fuck, no! Just give me a minute. _Eddie’s horrified at the idea of eating an old lady’s dogs. He thinks it would be _wrong_.

Someone comes to the door and tells the dogs to be quiet. They finally stop barking and Venom’s molecules begin to flow more easily again. The door opens a little bit. An old woman with short gray hair and glasses looks out. She's very short, shorter than Eddie.

“Mrs. Koslowski?”

“That's me.” She smiles at them, but she doesn't open the door any further.

Eddie hunches his shoulders and drops his head low, making himself smaller. “I'm sorry to bother you, ma’am. My name is Eddie Brock. I'm a… a writer.” Eddie almost said reporter, but changed his mind at the last second. Venom’s not sure why it matters, but Eddie always has more luck talking to people when he says he's a writer. “Elle at The Forest of Mystery said you might be able to help me. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

She pushes the dogs back with her foot and shuts the door behind her. The barking starts again as soon as it closes. Venom shivers.

“Oh, I heard we had a writer in town! I don't mind at all if you want to ask me some questions, but I'm not sure how much help I’ll be to you. I barely get out these days. I don't know much about what goes on in town anymore. I never met that poor woman who disappeared.”

“That's okay. I was actually hoping to ask you about the town’s history?”

“Oh, well!” She smiles at them. “That I know. Come on in!”

She opens the door again. “Max! Olly! Back, get back.” The dogs move away so they can come in. It's very small inside, and very warm.

Eddie steps in slowly, and the dogs stay away, wary of them. There are pictures on the walls, and lots of books on shelves, but Venom is mostly interested in the smell here. It smells just like chocolate!

_**Eddie…! **_they say. Eddie reaches up and tugs at his ear. Venom slumps down, disappointed.

“Would you like some tea, dear? I was just about to make a cup for myself.”

“Sure, thanks. Thank you,” Eddie says. He's nervous about the dogs, he keeps watching them watching him.

They're gray and white and black. _Huskies_, Eddie thinks, but they look more like wolves to him. Venom still thinks they look pretty delicious.

“I have some brownies, too, if you'd like some.”

_**“Yes!”**_ they say, using Eddie's mouth before they remember that they're supposed to stay hidden.

The dogs start to growl.

Eddie jerks backward, almost knocks over a lamp. Venom flings his arm out and grabs it before it can fall over and break. “_I'm sorry!_ I mean, yes, uh, yes, that would be great,” he stammers. “Thank you.”

Mrs. Koslowski looks at them for a few seconds. “Of course, dear.” She turns back to face the dogs. “Oh, you two, hush! You're scaring him. Quit it! Shoo!”

_God dammit, V!_ Eddie thinks.

They sink down further until they're deep down inside Eddie, in the spaces between his intestines. They're sorry; they really didn't mean to, but… _chocolate!_

“Sorry,” Eddie says. “Dogs just… don't like me.” He shrugs. “I don't know why.”

This lie is almost physically painful for Eddie to say, Venom realizes. Eddie likes dogs. A lot. And dogs used to like Eddie. Venom feels an odd stab of remorse. Eddie can't be around dogs because of Venom.

“Oh, well, that’s…” Mrs. Koslowski nods. “I've met a few people like that. Some people are just not dog people. When I was younger, I used to think it meant that someone was a bad person. Like the dogs could sense something about them that I couldn't. But now I know that's just silly. Dogs are just animals, aren't they?” Her hand drops down to rub at a dog’s head. It shifts slightly, relaxing, but its eyes remain fixed on Eddie. “They don't know any more than I do. And I'm not always a good judge of character.”

Eddie relaxes a little, too.

“Have a seat, dear, and I'll get that tea. And the brownies.” She disappears into the other room. The dogs go with her.

Eddie lets out a long breath and shakes his head. Venom knows Eddie's upset at them still. They’ll have to make it up to him later.

There are two big, soft chairs on either side of the fireplace, and a sofa across from the fireplace with a table in front of it. Eddie thinks for a second and then sits on the sofa.

Mrs. Koslowski comes back in carrying a tray with cups and a plate of brownies on it. Venom can't help the excitement that races through them. They rise back up to the surface, just under Eddie's skin. Drool floods their mouth and Eddie swallows reflexively.

“Go ahead, dear,” Mrs. Koslowski says.

It takes all of Venom’s willpower not to push Eddie’s arm forward and grab a brownie and shove it into their mouth. But Eddie would get upset if they did that. They let Eddie take a brownie and set it gently on a napkin. “Thanks,” he says.

Mrs. Koslowski pours some tea into a cup for them. It's another plant-based drink, like coffee. They've never had tea since they've been with Eddie. Eddie adds some sugar and some milk from another, smaller cup. He takes a sip. It's bitter and sweet and has too many plant tannins in it, no useful nutrients. Venom wants him to eat the brownie, but he doesn't.

Mrs. Koslowski takes her tea and sits in one of the big chairs by the fireplace. “So, what can I help you with, my dear?”

Eddie puts his tea down and pulls his little notebook and his new pen out of his pocket. He still doesn't eat the brownie. “I've heard Bailey has a history of missing people. Can you tell me about that?”

“Oh my, yes, we certainly do! But then, Bailey’s always been a strange place. And the Siuslaw, of course. We’ve had some very intriguing mysteries occur around here. The most famous case has to be the the Shevlin-Hixon Timber Company disappearance. Just a second.”

Mrs. Koslowski gets up out of her chair and takes a green book down from a shelf behind her. She sits down again and starts turning the pages.

“The crew was working up at Big Gap in 1910,” she continues. “Twenty-four men. This is them right here.” She passes the book across to Eddie. Eddie takes it. It's open to a photograph in black and brown and beige, showing a lot of people standing behind a large tree stump. They're all wearing hats. Eddie closes the book and looks at the cover. _A History of the Siuslaw by T. Koslowski _is what it says. He opens it to the picture again.

“That photo was taken on June 28th. On July 12th, the crew worked hard all day up on the ridge, came back to camp, got washed up, and sat down in the mess hall for supper. And then, sometime after that, they all vanished, Mr. Brock.”

“It's just Eddie.” Eddie passes the book back. “What happened to them?”

“Eddie it is then. My nephew is an Eddie, too.” She smiles at them. “No one has any clue where they went, of course. Let’s see… It wasn't until three days later, when the regular supply run came up the mountain, that anyone even knew they were missing. Had to bring everything in by mule train back then. Those fellows found nothing but an empty camp, table still set for supper, food rotting in pots on the stove. No signs of any violence. The men left everything behind, even their most precious possessions. Nothing was taken. It was like they just got up and walked away into the woods. The whole affair was quite the scandal back then, even made the papers in Seattle.”

Eddie writes a few things down in his notebook. He’s completely forgotten about the brownie. “You don't think they just got fed up with the job?” Eddie doesn't think that's what happened now, but he still wants to ask.

“No, I don't. They didn't take anything. And none of those men were ever heard from again. Not by their families, not by anyone. You'd think one of them would’ve shown up eventually, but none ever did.”

She sets her tea cup down on the little table next to her. “You should eat that brownie, dear. You’ve been staring at it this whole time.”

“Oh, yeah… Sorry. Thanks.” Eddie finally picks up the brownie and takes a bite._ It's so good! So good!_ They make Eddie shove the rest into their mouth before he can put it down. It's only a little awkward.

Mrs. Koslowski doesn't seem to notice; she keeps talking. “That was the biggest disappearance, and the most famous, but there have been many others over the years. Quite a few. Hunters, people out for a walk or a hike. A group of five—young people from down in California—went missing in 1978. Their campsite and their cars were found abandoned a week later, after their families hadn't heard from them. No one has an explanation for that either. Another couple, camping in the Siuslaw, went missing in 1992. No sign of them, of course. No bodies ever recovered. And then, of course, that woman with the FBI.”

Eddie writes that down: _1978, 1992._ “You said Bailey’s always been strange. What did you mean by that?”

“Have another brownie, dear. I can tell you want one.” She nods when Eddie takes another. “Aside from people vanishing into our forest without a trace, you mean? Well, there are the dreams.”

Eddie’s muscles stiffen and his heart starts to beat faster. He doesn’t take a bite of the brownie, but sets it carefully down on the napkin. The rain is suddenly louder outside. “Dreams?”

“Yes, dreams. Visitors from the outside sometimes have strange dreams when they come here. But the most intriguing thing is that it’s always the same dream.”

Eddie's throat is dry. He swallows before saying, “What, uh, what do they dream about?”

“Oh, let's see… Very strange things: they see a house made of white stone in the forest, a desert with a muddy river they want to cross, more than anything. A city, made all of broken glass. Places that don't seem like they should exist in this world.” She sits back and takes a sip of her tea, watching them. “As I said, very strange things.”

Eddie is distracted, so Venom reaches out and picks up the brownie, takes a bite. Eddie doesn't fight them; he's still staring at Mrs. Koslowski, thoughts going too fast for Venom to comprehend. They have to make him swallow.

Mrs. Koslowski nods like they've said something out loud. “I've read variations of that same dream in countless diaries and letters. Some going back as far as the late eighteen-hundreds. Always the same accounts, from people who couldn't possibly have known each other, sometimes years and years apart. I have no idea what any of it means. Or if it means anything at all.”

The rain is very loud on the roof and windows, the sound like a roar in Eddie’s ears. There's a clock ticking behind them. Venom suddenly finds it annoying, now that they've noticed it.

Mrs. Koslowski is still watching them. “You haven't had any dreams like that, have you, dear?”

Eddie shakes his head quickly. “No,” he lies. Eddie is really a terrible liar.

Mrs. Koslowski stares at them for a while before speaking. “I see,” she says.

_ **She knows you're lying. ** _

Eddie waves his hand by his ear, coughs, and asks, “What about you? Have you, uh, ever had the dream?”

“No,” she says, after another long moment. “Never did. Always wanted to, though, just to see it for myself. But I don't believe anyone who’s ever been born here or lived here for a while has. Not that they've said to me, anyhow.”

Eddie writes that down. “What about the people who disappeared? Any of them have this dream?”

“Oh, yes.” She smiles at them, picks up the book again. “Quite a few. One of the earliest accounts I've been able to find was in the diary of a man named Henry Shipton. This is him.” She hands the open book back to Eddie, points at a picture in brown and white. It's of a man with a beard and a hat, sitting in a chair, looking straight at the camera, not smiling the way humans like to do when someone takes their picture. “He was one of the crew up at Big Gap in 1910. He disappeared along with all the rest.”

“A few of the others wrote about their dreams, too. A boy who went missing back in 1975 wrote a letter to his parents before he disappeared; he talked about the same dream, how he was going to cross the river to find something. They had no idea what it meant. The police at the time concluded he'd had a mental breakdown and committed suicide. They thought the letter was referencing death, maybe. The River Styx, as in Greek mythology.” She shrugs. “They found the boy’s car along Highway 34, but his body was never recovered.”

“What do you think the dreams mean?”

Mrs. Koslowski sighs. “I don't have a clue, dear. But that is a mystery I’ve been thinking about for many years. Some say this forest is haunted, or that it's cursed. I can't say I believe in such things, but who's to say what's real anymore? The world is full of strange things, isn't it?”

Eddie doesn't say anything to that, but Venom knows he agrees. He takes Agent Savoy’s picture of the stone house out of his pocket, hands it across to Mrs. Koslowski. “Have you ever seen this place?”

She stares down at it for a long time. When she looks up, her eyes are wide behind her glasses. “Where did you get this?”

“I can't really say. Sorry.”

“It's the stone house from the dream, isn't it! This is… I had no idea it was real. All these years…” She shakes her head, staring down at the photo.

Eddie scratches at his eyebrow. “Uh, can I ask how you're sure this is the house from the dream?”

“What else could it be? It's exactly as they described it. A house made all of white stone. No windows, only this arched door.”

Eddie’s finger freezes. “Sorry… what was that about windows?”

_ **No windows! Eddie, it's just like the big house we saw!** _

_Yeah, V, yeah, hold on… _

“Well, there aren't any windows, are there? It's not the best image, but see, right here”—she turns the picture, so Eddie can see it, too, points at the edge of the house—“there isn't one on this wall. And look how dark that doorway is; I’d bet there aren't any windows on the sides you can't see, either.”

Eddie stares at the photo he's already been staring at for almost a week. “Huh,” he says.

“I always thought that was such an odd little detail for anyone to remember. How does anyone remember something like that from a dream? Mine are always such slippery things…” She looks back up at Eddie. “This photo was taken near Bailey?”

“I don't know, actually. I'm trying to find it.”

She hands the photo back, almost reluctantly. “Well, I wish you luck, my dear. And if you do find this house, I'd very much like to know about it. Like to see it for myself.”

_**The big house, Eddie, with no windows, **_Venom reminds him.

_Yeah, V, I got it. _

Eddie puts the photo away. “The man who owns the Forest of Mystery...? Elle called him Mr. Jason. Does he have a first name?”

“Jason _is_ his first name, dear. His last name is Aiden.”

Eddie writes that down. He’s thinking he’ll research that name when they get back to the room, but maybe Fury’s people can also dig something up if he doesn't have any luck.

Venom growls low. The dogs’ ears move like they heard something, but they don't get up.

_Shut up, V, _Eddie says to them. He's still worried about the dogs.

_ **I don't like that asshole.** _

_I know, just… be quiet._

He looks back up at Mrs. Koslowski. “Sorry, I just…” Eddie shakes his head, smiles. “Lost my train of thought there. You helped Mr. Aiden with the exhibits at the Forest of Mystery, right?”

“I did.”

“What can you tell me about him?”

“Not much, I'm afraid. I’ve never met him in person. We talked on the phone. He's a recluse, you see—scared to leave that big house of his. Agoraphobia, it's called. I think he moved here sometime in the eighties, from somewhere else. He'd made a fortune and retired early, bought a bunch of land, and opened up his tourist trap a few years later.”

“Why do you think he did that?”

“I'm not sure, dear. You know, our town used to be a lot bigger, back in the day. But when the timber companies moved on, a lot of the work dried up. I know it doesn't look it now, but that mystery place is pretty popular during the summer season. Gets a lot of folks stopping. That, and there's the internet, these days, of course. We’re pretty famous for our haunted forest.”

Eddie nods even though he'd never heard of Bailey before Fury kidnapped them. He closes his notebook and puts it back in his pocket, stands up. “Thank you, Mrs. Koslowski, for taking the time to talk to me. And for the brownies and tea. They were… really good.”

Mrs. Koslowski stands up, too, and her dogs get up and circle around her legs, wagging their tails. “You're very welcome, my dear. Truth be told, I’ll take any chance I get to talk about our history. Everyone around here is tired of listening to my rambling after all these years, so I don't get many visitors. If you have any more questions, just stop on by. I'll be here. And if you ever find that house, you let me know.”

“Thanks. I will. I promise.” Venom can feel that Eddie wants to give her a hug, but the dogs are in the way. He decides not to.

“Now, young man, before you leave… I have one question for you.”

“What's that?”

She grins at them. “Would you like to take a few brownies home with you?

_ **Yes, Eddie! Yes we would!** _

Eddie sighs very, very quietly, but he’s happy. “Yes I, uh… yeah, thanks. Thanks so much.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... here's the rest of that ridiculously long chapter!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: sex, some discussion of suicide and mental illness

_Monday, Sept 2_

_So, that dream…_

_I'm out in the forest and I'm standing in front of this white building. It looks like it's made of stone blocks or concrete. Honestly, it looks like a crypt, the above-ground type that are popular in New Orleans. I remember reading about those for a school project when I was a kid. They had to put the bodies up high like that because of flooding. Freaked me out, at the time. I don't think that's what this thing is. It's still creepy, though. _

_There's a door in front of me. I can't see inside, it's too dark or blurry or something, but I want to go in. I can hear something, almost like a voice calling my name. I don't actually remember if I went in or not. The next thing I remember is waking up._

_I've never had a dream like that in my life. It was so vivid! I'm a little creeped out. I swear I can still hear something. Something out there, calling me. _

_Spooky, huh?_

* * *

_**Food,**_ Venom says as soon as they get back to their room.

“We just ate, like…” Eddie checks his watch, but the hour hand is on the nine, which makes no sense. “Uh… that's weird,” he mumbles. The seconds hand isn't moving at all. Did he forget to change the battery?

He shakes his wrist because he knows nothing about watches and that's the only thing he can think of. Still nothing. His gut churns with that gnawing, ever-present hunger. The chocolate helped, but not enough.

“Quit it, V,” he murmurs. He’ll have to take a trip out of town if he wants a new watch battery.

Eddie unstraps his watch and turns it over. The back is completely brown with rust. “What the fuck?” he mutters.

_**Iron oxide,**_ Venom says.

“What?” Eddie’s distracted trying to remember how to open the back of his watch.

_ **The smell. Iron oxide.** _

Eddie finally pries the back open. Some red dust puffs out. The insides are totally fucked, apparently. He pours out the crumbling remains of whatever mechanical parts used to be inside onto the bedside table.

“_Fuck_.” He liked that fucking watch, damn it, had gotten it a few years ago as a kind of reward for himself after his first broadcast.

“It's rusted through,” he says. Eddie tries to remember if he forgot to take it off before showering. But wasn't this thing supposed to be waterproof?

Then he remembers what Venom just said, realizes he's been smelling this smell for a while, too, and something finally clicks: _rust_. “That's what rust is? Iron oxide? You said that before.”

_ **Yes.** _

“At the Forest of Mystery, right? The pen.” He still has it in his pocket. He pulls it out and takes a closer look. “You think this is rusted, too?”

_ **It also smells like iron oxide.** _

Eddie holds it up to his nose. It does smell—it smells just like his watch. “That's… really fuckin’ weird.” He twists the pen until the end comes off and taps it against the desk. The ink cartridge falls out along with a bunch of brown dust; the rusted remains of a metal coil. Eddie just stares at it for a while, thinking.

“How the fuck did…?” he starts. This makes no sense—they didn't get _that_ wet in the rain. Eddie freezes. What else does he carry that has metal parts? He grabs his phone out of his pocket, turns it on. That works. It's fine, in fact. Here's the blurry photo of the house they took earlier. _Fuckin’ weird_.

“When did…?” He tries to retrace their steps, remember what they’d done. The pen has been in his pocket since he got into town. He always wears his watch. He had his phone with him all day today, but…

He grabs his notebook and flips to the last page. The last thing he wrote with his favorite pen, before _Mrs. Koslowski, county road 2046_, was _Look into history of missing people. _That was yesterday, in the forest.

“When I left my phone in the car,” he says.

_**Yes. **_He can feel Venom remembering what they did yesterday, too: the forest, the rain, running and then fucking, meeting Ranger Rick. Was there a smell? _No_, they can't remember anything like that.

“Huh.” Eddie shakes his head. The rust must’ve happened after. Or during…

“_Oh, fuck_,” he whispers. He’s just thought of something. He picks up his phone again, calls the number that just appeared mysteriously in his contacts a few days ago.

Venom growls loudly in his head as soon as they realize what he's doing.

“Shhh…” Eddie says, distracted.

After three rings someone picks up and a woman's voice says, “Yes?”

“I need to talk to Nick Fury.”

“Please hold.”

Eddie does, for what seems like a stupidly long time. He taps his foot against the floor, pokes at the remains of his watch on the table. He can feel Venom waiting, too, more curious than angry now.

Eventually, there's a soft click on the line, then, “Brock.” And that's Nick Fury, sounding as pleased as ever to hear from him.

Eddie doesn't bother with a greeting, just dives right in. “I need any old records you have on Michelle's—I mean, Agent Savoy’s—car.”

There's a pause on the other end. “You already have everything.”

“No. I mean anything from before she went on her trip. Any service records, work she had done on it recently, any maintenance, anything at all. Can you get those?”

Fury doesn't answer that question. Eddie can practically hear the other man thinking. “You think the garage mechanic sabotaged her car? Because the kind of damage we found would be difficult to fake. Seems like a stretch.”

“No, I don't think that.” Eddie rubs his face, frustrated. “I don't know what I think. I just… I need those records, if you can get them. I’ve got a hunch about something.”

“What kind of hunch?”

“I'm not sure.” Eddie taps his foot faster. “Michelle’s—_fuck_, I mean, Agent Savoy’s—camera. Her digital camera. The reports said it was damaged.”

“That's right.”

“What kind of damage?”

“Water damage.”

“Was it actually wet?”

“No, it wasn't wet,” Fury says slowly. “The insides were rusted out.”

Eddie smiles to himself. _Yes!_ “Her other camera? The… the analog? Was that damaged, too?”

“What are you thinking, Brock?”

He can't answer that because he honestly doesn't know what he's thinking yet. “Was the other camera full of rust?”

“We didn't check that one for damage. The film was developed and the camera was dusted for prints and put into storage. I'll have it brought up to the lab.”

“And the car records…”

“Got it.”

“And I also need any information you guys can get on a local resident named Jason Aiden. Rich guy, owns the local roadside attraction.”

“He connected to this in some way?”

“I don't know yet.” He feels like Fury might not be down with the whole lack-of-windows connection.

Fury sighs. “That all you need?”

“Yeah.”

“Give me twelve hours, Brock. I'll get you what I can.”

“Thanks,” he says, but Fury’s already hung up. “And fuck you, too,” he mutters, staring down at his phone.

Venom comes out and drapes languidly over his shoulder, black tendrils creeping down over his chest. The alien’s version of a comforting hug. **“The pen and the watch were damaged when we went into the forest yesterday.”**

“I think so,” Eddie says. He can sense Venom working out his thoughts for themselves, sorting through the facts they've gathered so far. He reaches up to stroke his fingers along the smooth alien skin, feels that bizarre doubling—his fingers touching, being touched by his fingers—like Venom is an extension of himself.

**“Your phone still works because you left it in the car.”**

“Yeah, maybe,” Eddie says. “That was the only time it could've happened. I had my phone with me the rest of the time.”

**“Something out there in the forest caused the metal parts to oxidize. Just like the metal parts of Agent Savoy’s car,” **Venom concludes.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again. “Do you know anything that could do that?”

**“Hmm… Moisture, salt, time. This chemical reaction is usually slow.”**

“That's weird, right? That it happened so fast?”

**“Very weird.”**

Eddie reaches up to scratch at his eyebrow. His hand, out of the corner of his eye, is covered in black, shot through with veins of white. He hadn't noticed. “What's with the glove, V?”

**“You were chewing on your finger. I didn't want you to damage it further.”**

“Oh.” _Shit, really? _He hadn't noticed. He watches as the black sinks slowly back into his skin. His finger looks okay. Venom must’ve healed it. “Sorry. Guess we're pretty hungry, huh?”

Venom turns to grin at him with all of their sharp teeth. **“Always.”**

* * *

They sit at the bar downstairs to eat.

The person who usually brings them food, Lorraine, isn't there. Another woman with dark, straight hair brings them their food. Venom is okay with that because this person doesn't try to talk to them like Lorraine does. It's still smoky in here, but Eddie’s lungs will probably be okay if they don't stay too long. Venom can always fix him again if they have to.

Eddie’s brought a map with them to the bar.

Their host is distracted by the map and picks at their food until Venom takes over eating for both of them. Fries are not what they need right now, but they are delicious, they've decided, like long, greasier tater-tots. The fries here are especially greasy, too, making them extra delicious.

Venom hasn't seen a map like this one before; it has a lot of wavy lines marking different areas in shades of green and brown, a lot of numbers, and words for different places.

_Topographical map,_ Eddie says to them. _It shows stuff like mountains and valleys._ _Here's where the logging camp was. The one that went missing. _He circles the words _Big Gap _on the map.

Venom already knows where this is going. _**Where did Agent Savoy’s car get a flat tire?**_

Eddie smiles, nods once. And Venom feels a surge of pride. They're helping!

_Here,_ Eddie says, and points to a line marked _FS road 3253. _It follows another blue line that says, _Little Cub Creek. _

Yes, Venom remembers, that's where they were yesterday. _**They’re close together.**_

_The next valley over_, Eddie says. _We should go out there tonight, take a look around._

They want to keep helping, but they need to eat soon. _**Tomorrow**. **You promised we would go fishing tonight.**_

_Maybe we’ll run into a deer or a bear to eat._

_**I already told you: no bears or deer here, Eddie. **_They're not sure why Eddie doesn't believe them, but they haven't sensed any large animals here, anywhere they've been.

_Fine, but we just need to—_

**_We need to eat before we starve, _**they say. They don't need to explain further to Eddie because he already knows how bad it can get when they're hungry. Some parts of their host’s body are redundant and can be consumed, but they won't hurt Eddie again. They'd rather die than risk that.

Eddie taps his pen against the map for a minute. He sighs and takes a sip of his beer.

Now Eddie’s upset with them again. And they're still hungry. Venom grumbles.

Eddie sighs again, softer this time. _I know, V. Look… I'm sorry, I just—_

Someone steps up right next to them and Eddie turns to look. It's the man from the forest yesterday. _Rick_, Venom remembers. He's not wearing his hat.

“Hey,” he says, smiling and sliding into the seat next to them at the bar. He points his finger at them. “Reporter guy, right?”

“That's right,” Eddie says easily enough, but he's annoyed at the interruption, Venom notices. He folds the map up and tucks it away into the envelope.

“Mind if I sit here?” The guy asks, still smiling. He hasn't picked up on Eddie’s irritation at all.

“Nope.” Eddie takes another sip of their drink. He's now thinking, Venom knows, about what kind of information they can get from this person.

Venom answers the question Eddie hasn't quite articulated yet: _**He does not smell like iron oxide.**_

_Got it._

Rick goes on, oblivious to their interaction. “Thanks. Hey, sorry I snuck up on you out in the woods yesterday. It's just… sometimes people get up to no good out there.”

“What kind of no good?” Eddie asks casually. He doesn't feel casual, though.

“Well… “ The guy blows out a breath. “I hate to say it, but we've had a lot of people come out here to commit suicide. The forest has a bit of a reputation online, you know, attracts people who might be thinking about, you know… harming themselves. People come out here, walk off into the woods, and just… disappear. When I saw you out there this morning, without any gear or anything, that was my first thought. That's why I was worried.”

Eddie grunts, but doesn't say anything in response. He's bothered by this, Venom senses. Eddie has memories—vague, dark memories—of doing things that could've led to his death. Not intentionally, but back then he hadn't cared if he lived or died, and, sometimes, that's enough. He keeps these memories buried deep down, tries not to remember. Venom doesn't like to remember either. They don't like to imagine a world without Eddie.

“Were any of the missing people ever found?”

The guy shakes his head. “No, not a trace.”

Eddie takes another sip of his beer, before asking, “Then how do you know they were suicides?”

“Well, I mean… I don't know. I'm not exactly law enforcement, so I don't know how they decided that. That's just the conclusion the police came to.” He shrugs. “Not finding a body doesn't exactly mean anything. It's a huge forest, lot of area to cover, and animals would likely get to any corpse before we ever found it.”

Eddie thinks that this is probably what happened to Michelle Savoy, though he doesn't want it to be. Something went wrong in her brain, and she went into the forest and she hurt herself. The police and Fury’s people haven't found her because animals ate her body. Eddie is sure that this is still the most logical explanation, despite all the weird shit they've found so far, and Nick Fury is simply in denial about what happened.

_ **What about the missing men at the lumber camp? And the rust? And the dreams? And the house with no windows?** _

_Don't know, V. It might not all be connected._

Rick is still talking. “Anyway, I get worried when I see someone wandering around out there. Can't be too careful these days, I say. But, you're a reporter, so… no need to worry about you, right?” The guy grins at them.

Eddie winces and finishes his drink in one swallow.

“Buy you another?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sure.” He doesn't want another beer, but he also _does_ want one. Eddie is often conflicted like that, which was very hard for a Klyntar to get used to.

The guy waves to the woman serving drinks behind the bar. Another beer appears in front of Eddie. He picks it up and takes a sip. “Thanks,” he says.

“Don't mention it.”

The man shifts closer, scooting his chair towards them with an alarming shriek against the wooden floor that makes Venom’s molecules shake. He's close enough now for them to smell him easily over the background scents of smoke and alcohol and wet fabric. He smells good, different from Eddie’s scent, but complementary almost, like the way chocolate and blood go so well together.

Venom usually wants to eat people who annoy Eddie. But not this guy, which is… _odd_, especially considering how hungry they are right now. He _should_ look delicious, but he doesn't. This hasn't happened before. The symbiote’s interest increases.

The man looks almost hungry, too, the way he's watching them, letting his eyes roam over Eddie. Almost, but not quite like he wants to eat them. It's close to the way Fury had looked at Eddie, which made Venom angry. But they almost… appreciate the look this time. The familiar gaze of a fellow predator, spotting vulnerable prey, excitement at the anticipation of the hunt. This guy is a kindred spirit.

Eddie thinks these thoughts are amusing. _He's trying to pick us up, V._

Ah… The closeness and the hungry look suddenly make more sense. It's all part of a human mating ritual. Venom finds these hard to understand, even with access to all of Eddie’s experiences. So much of human courtship seems to be based on conflicting interests and misunderstandings.

The Klyntar are much more straightforward about their reproductive process. Simple chemicals that signal willingness and acceptance. No misunderstandings possible. And everyone benefits from the shared reproductive effort. The only time it gets complicated is if one of the mating partners becomes hungry before the others can disentangle themselves. But Venom has so far avoided being eaten during sex. They count that as success.

Eddie’s also enjoyed a fair amount of mating success for a loser, Venom’s realized, after sifting through his memories. True, he hasn't actually managed to produce any offspring that he's aware of, but he has had many mates of all genders, including Anne, who is very smart and successful, and confident, and pretty much just great in general. Eddie thinks of himself as _goofy looking_, but Venom reasons he must actually be good-looking, otherwise, how would he attract a superior mate like Anne? He doesn't have much to offer in terms of monetary success, which is something Venom’s learned humans care about. But people _do_ like to talk to Eddie, and they like to be near him, even people who don't want to mate with him, like Mrs. Chen, so he must also be interesting and kind.

Venom tries to evaluate Rick’s fitness as a potential mate. It's difficult. Eddie considers his exterior appearance attractive. And, therefore, Venom does, too, to an extent. He appears to be disease-free and reasonably clean. He and Eddie won't be able to make a viable offspring, of course, not without Venom reconfiguring most of Eddie’s reproductive tract, and Venom suspects Eddie wouldn't approve of that _at all. _His smell is certainly intriguing, even if their host is mostly oblivious to the finer complexities of chemical messages. He's already signaled his willingness to mate by buying Eddie a drink—the exchange of material goods for sexual favors. But Eddie finds him irritating rather than alluring.

_That’s because he's a dick, V._

Venom considers this. The guy hasn't done anything wrong that they can see, besides sneaking up on them in the forest yesterday and ruining their fun. And talking too much about boring human things, which all humans are guilty of. And making that noise with the chair. Venom’s pretty sure that last thing was an accident. He smells good _and_ he bought them a drink. Alcohol, which is a disgusting poison, but Venom can still appreciate the gesture.

_ **I don't think he's a dick, Eddie.** _

Eddie snorts quietly and tries to focus on what Rick is talking about. His job, apparently.

“—and it can get exciting during the fire season. Got a lot of idiots out there who don't know the first thing about how to put out a campfire.”

Eddie nods absently. He has no interest in the life of a forest service employee, is thinking about other things. Venom thinks it's a little rude that he's not even bothering to listen, especially after the free drink, but their host has fixated on something and isn't paying them much attention.

“Where are you from, originally?” Eddie asks, interrupting some story about a bear and an expensive car called a Tesla.

The guy grins at them. “My accent, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I'm from Wales.”

“Huh.” Eddie turns back to his drink, takes another sip. “Don't think I've ever met anyone from Wales before.”

That's a lie. And Eddie’s thinking to himself, _that's not a Welsh accent, not even close_. But he doesn't say anything out loud.

“We moved to the states when I was fifteen,” the guy continues. “My dad and I. I've always loved the outdoors, you know, so after I finished college in Portland, I—”

Eddie stops paying attention again, which Venom finds unusual. Eddie _always_ listens to other humans when they talk about their lives. Even really boring humans, who talk about really boring shit. Eddie is nice to everyone, even people they're thinking about eating later.

Their host nods sometimes while Rick is talking, drinks his drink, and makes sounds like he's listening, but he's really thinking about the stone house in the pictures and how they can find it, the rust on his watch and pen. He thinks that's the key to how they’ll find Michelle. He's wondering if there's something out there that could cause things to oxidize quickly that could also affect human brains. Maybe that's what causes the weird dreams…

_A… chemical? A poison? Something from space?_

Venom considers this, too. There are lots of things in the universe, infinite things, but there is nothing in the Klyntar experience that fits this exact pattern.

_ **Don't know, Eddie. I will think about it.** _

Their attention drifts until Rick asks Eddie a direct question, and they both snap back to the present.

“So, Eddie… where are you from?”

Eddie briefly considers lying, but he says, “New York, originally. I live in San Francisco now.”

“Oh wow, you're a real city boy, huh?” The guy shifts closer, leans toward them, still smiling.

Venom doesn't mind Rick getting in their space—he really does smell good. Not like iron oxide. Not in the way potential food smells good, more like the complex smells of the forest. They force Eddie to inhale more deeply so they can get more of that delicious scent, but their host still doesn't seem to notice or appreciate it. He just nods.

“San Francisco. What's it like living there? I hear it's expensive, but I guess it's worth it to be surrounded by so many interesting people all the time.”

“Yep,” Eddie says. And then he doesn't elaborate.

Rick shifts next to them, until his knee is touching Eddie’s thigh. His skin feels cool through the fabric against Eddie’s skin. “Staying in town long?”

Eddie moves his leg away. “Just a few days. Until I have enough for the story.”

“Where are you staying?”

Eddie’s annoyed by the touching and all of these questions. He remembers Fury’s vague warning that they might encounter danger here, wonders briefly if this guy can be trusted, if he could harm them somehow. He doesn't want to answer, but he thinks it would be rude not to. “Uh, here. Upstairs.”

“Oh, yeah.” The guy nods. “Guess it's pretty much the only game in town.” He laughs after he says this.

Venom wonders if that was supposed to be a joke.

Eddie doesn't laugh. He gets up, instead, picks up the envelope with the map inside. “Thanks for the drink, man.”

“Sure I can't tempt you with another?”

“Maybe some other time,” Eddie says. “I'm pretty beat. Gonna call it a night.”

“Yeah, okay.” Rick stands up, too. He's frowning. He doesn't want Eddie to leave, Venom guesses. He's probably thinking about his failure to attract a potential mate even after doing everything right. Venom can't blame him. Eddie is being fairly unreasonable, in their opinion.

Rick holds out his hand to shake, and Eddie hesitates again. Venom actually takes over and pushes Eddie's hand forward because it seems like the right thing to do, and they shake. His skin _is_ cool, just like Venom knew it would be.

“Take care,” the guy says. “Until next time.”

“Yeah, until next time.”

* * *

Venom is quiet, thinking alien thoughts, until they get back to their room. Eddie can feel them getting ready to say something, though.

He locks the door, takes two steps, then doubles back to look through the peephole. No one’s out there. Not even Ranger Rick. He's just paranoid. He shakes his head at how crazy he's become since they got here.

“We’ll have to wait until later to go fishing. I don't really wanna explain why we’re swimming in the creek in the middle of the—”

_ **Why don’t you like that guy?** _

And there it is…

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed and pulls his boots off. They're still a little muddy, so he sets them carefully down on the floor rather than dropping them. “I don't know, V. He just isn't my type.”

That's almost a lie, he realizes; Ranger Rick is pretty much exactly his type, looks-wise: tall, dark, and handsome. The guy also has gorgeous blue eyes, and he's always had a thing for blue eyes. As for Rick’s less than stellar personality, well… Eddie’s been known to overlook any shortcomings in that department if it means he’ll still get laid.

But there's just something about the guy that rubs him exactly the _wrong_ way… He's not sure what it is, just a gut feeling, maybe.

And, anyway, he's already with someone.

_**You find him annoying, **_Venom continues.

“Yeah, that too.”

_ **He bought us a drink. He wanted to buy us more drinks.** _

Eddie chuckles. “He just wanted to get me drunk so I'd consider fucking him.”

_ **What's wrong with that?** _

Eddie shrugs. “Nothing, really. I just don't wanna fuck him.” He also doesn't trust a guy who’d lie about where he’s from, or who’d make up a stupid, fake accent and then lie about that. But, whatever. Sometimes he's just not into certain people, even if Venom—

He pauses, hands hovering over his belt buckle as something finally occurs to him. “Why? Do _you_ want me to fuck him?”

Venom is silent for a long time, and Eddie knows they're trying to decide what to say. _**Don't know.**_

That's weird. “_Really? _You like this guy? And not just to eat? You want to”_—fuck_ is such a human word, Venom doesn't really think like that—“you want to _mate_ with him?”

_**Don't know. **_Venom’s voice sounds sheepish.

“You want _us_ to mate with him?” he tries.

_**Maybe. **_That answer comes quickly; Venom is more sure about this.

“Huh.” This is new, and not really something Eddie had ever considered coming up in his bizarre new life with an alien partner. Does _he_ even want to have a relationship with another human again, even if it's just a hook-up? The whole break-up with Annie is still pretty fresh, and he just hadn't felt like he was ready for another relationship. And then Venom came along and things got infinitely more complicated. Would something like that even be _safe? _Or would it turn out more like that hot tub scene in the movie _Species_?

“That's weird,” he says, just to say _something_. And because it _is_ fucking weird.

Is he jealous? He doesn't think so, he's never been the jealous type, but he's also never really thought about Venom wanting to be with another person, wanting _them_ to be with another person. He knows Venom would never leave him willingly. Venom loves him; he can _feel_ that with absolute certainty. So, at least this isn't about how he's a shitty host. _Still_…

“You've never shown that kind of interest in anyone else before,” he says.

_**Yes, I have,**_ Venom seems offended. _**I want Anne back. **_

Fair enough. “Well, yeah, bud. We've talked about that, but—”

_ **And I like… Dan.** _

“Dan? _Really? _I thought you didn't trust him?” Venom has been mostly disinterested in Dan, as far as Eddie can tell. Polite, especially for a creature who tried to choke him out a few months ago, but standoffish. Sort of exactly the opposite of how they act around Annie, which is more like an overexcited puppy.

_**You like Dan, **_Venom points out.

Eddie can already feel his cheeks heating up. He clears his throat. “As a friend, V. He's a nice guy. He's helped us out a lot, even when he didn't have to.”

_ **And you find him attractive. You like how confident he is. And how smart. ** _

“Well, you know…” Eddie shrugs. This conversation is getting seriously awkward.

_ **I like Dan because you like Dan. Plus, he makes food for us. And he makes Anne happy.** _

Time to steer this conversation away from certain topics before it's too late. “Well, I don't like Ranger Rick, so why do you like him?” He actually _is_ interested in the answer, because why the hell would an alien find some random khaki-wearing dude attractive?

_ **Not sure. There's something about him I like. He smells good.** _

“You like the way he _smells?_”

_ **Yes. His biochemistry. His pheromones.** _

“Huh. Do humans even have pheromones?” That makes some kind of sense, maybe. Eddie can pick up on stuff like that now because of their connection, things only Venom would be aware of—smells and sounds, weird chemical tastes he doesn't have the words to describe, like the smell of rust. Maybe pheromones are the same.

He hasn't really noticed anything particularly interesting about Ranger Rick. Just a hint? Eddie supposes the guy does smell pretty good—like pine needles or a wet forest floor or something. He just thought the guy was wearing cologne. Either way, he still doesn't smell good enough to fuck.

“Would you really want that? For us, _for me_, to have sex with another person?”

_ **I think so. It might be fun.** _

“Yeah, well…” Eddie snorts, finally finishes unbuckling his belt. “It might get complicated, too.”

_**Doesn't have to be complicated.**_ Eddie can feel Venom sifting through his memories of no-strings-attached flings. He's had a lot. Some of them were indeed pretty damn fun.

Venom lingers on a night he spent with a staff writer from Variety. They'd met in New York, at the most boring fucking convention ever, years before Annie, had way too much to drink, and slipped back up to his room during the convocation. The things that woman could do with her mouth, _holy shit_…

He's half-hard already before he realizes it, just from remembering. He looks down and sees black pooling around his groin through his open fly. “Hey, cut it out,” he says, but he’s only half-serious.

_ **Could be fun, Eddie.** _

“Yeah, well… this guy could be evil or something, too. I don't really trust him.” And why the hell would he lie about his accent? Who fucking does that?

Venom rubs and squeezes him gently, but insistently—their way of asking permission.

Eddie closes his eyes and groans because he's horny as hell all of a sudden and that feels so damn good. “I thought we were, like, literally starving to death?” he teases.

_ **Not literally. We’ll survive. For a while… ** _

Eddie snorts. Okay, they’re doing this.

He pushes his hand down, sinks into Venom’s warmth, and Venom lets him, flows out and swirls around his fingers. He says, “Don't you want fish?” even as he wraps his fingers around his dick and starts stroking.

Venom makes an appreciative sound. _**Sex first, then fish.**_

Eddie can't help laughing out loud because that’s a phrase he didn't think he'd ever fucking hear. But, _yeah_, he agrees: sex first. “Sure, V. Whatever you want,” he murmurs.

_ **Yes. Whatever I want. ** _

They get each other off quickly this time. Eddie can feel Venom pushing him the whole way through, triggering his reflexes to get him right to the edge of orgasm and then keeping him there, teetering, desperate. It drives him fucking wild when they do that.

“V, damn, V, _please_. Don't make me beg,” he gasps.

_ **Too late.** _

A minute or an eternity later and he can't take it anymore, he's shaking and saying all kinds of ridiculous shit, begging like he never has with anyone else. And Venom is just looming over him, eating it all up. But they never push him too far; they always know exactly what he needs, how much he can take.

When he comes, it's perfect.

* * *

Venom drifts through Eddie’s sleeping body in a quiescent state during the slow early morning hours, lulled into oblivion by the comforting rhythm of Eddie’s life processes.

They ate well tonight. _Finally_.

They waited until the moon had risen and then they snuck out of their motel room and into the forest. They followed the creek, moving silently, hidden by their dark skin, until they came to a spot where the water ran deep and slow. There were many sleeping fish there, drifting gently over the rocks.

Venom waited, crouching on the bank, absolutely still, until the perfect moment to strike. They can't make their biomass rigid to the extent that Riot could, only enough for their teeth and claws, but that's all they need to catch fish. They leaped into the water, lashed out in all directions at once, wrapped around the wriggling bodies of the startled fish, and hauled them in. They caught and ate seven fish, crunched through their tiny, numerous bones. Many more sped away through the water in a panic.

Fish are very stupid, though, and the rest came swimming back after a few minutes of stillness. Venom was able to grab two more before the fish realized a dangerous predator was still in the water.

After the fish, they spread out, slid their biomass under and between the rocks, finding small lobsters. Eddie called them _crayfish_. The lobsters pinched, but their claws were tiny, and they were easy to catch. _Crunchy._

They wanted sex again after eating. They want that all the time, actually. But their host often feels guilt and shame when they eat a human, and Eddie says those feelings are not conducive to good sex, so they don't usually mate right after a hunt. But Eddie didn’t feel too bad about eating the fish tonight. Dogs and tame goats wearing collars are never okay to eat, bad humans are questionable, lobsters and fish are fine.

Eddie wanted sex again tonight, too, so they forced him down onto his knees in the cold water, entered him from behind, made him gasp and moan, made him say, _c’mon, V, c’mon, please, please… _in that urgent way they love so much. They can't take their full form without Eddie inside them completely, but they can wrap themselves around him, use his hips for leverage, and push into him from the outside just like a human lover would. _Better_ than a human lover would. They can keep him warm in the cold water and make him come so hard he loses his balance and falls in face-first, laughing and sputtering and coughing.

Venom wondered again, then, what it would be like to mate with another human, to be inside Eddie while they were with someone else. They want Eddie to have everything; they want him to be happy.

“This is all I need, V. Just you. Just us,” Eddie had said. And he _was_ happy.

But what would it be like to _not know_? To be surprised by the actions of another in the way a host and symbiote can't be? Eddie has so many varied and intriguing memories of sex with other humans, memories of fun, of comfort, of being disappointed, even afraid at times, but also memories of pleasure he didn't expect, new experiences that changed everything.

They're still thinking about this when Eddie begins to dream.

Venom comes back to awareness quickly. Because this is not a normal dream. This is another strange dream.

And this one is different from the last one Eddie had. In this dream, Eddie is standing in front of the stone house. The one from the pictures. The stone is white, and Venom can taste it on the air, even here in Eddie’s dream. _Calcium carbonate._ And another smell, lingering—_iron oxide_. Like Eddie’s watch and pen. But this is so much bigger. Something large and metal is rusting nearby, but they can’t see it.

They are in the forest of tall, green trees, the same one they walked through yesterday. Venom can taste that, too, how real it all seems.

They discussed what to do, before Eddie fell asleep, and they agreed that Venom wouldn't wake Eddie up if he had another strange dream because it might be an important clue. But they feel uncertain now that Eddie’s in the dream, because they’re not sure anymore that this is actually a dream.

And Venom is starting to worry that this might be damaging Eddie somehow.

Eddie’s brain seems to be functioning normally. But he _has_ changed. The things they've noticed over the last few days are all very slight, just the smallest differences in the levels of certain neurotransmitters, an increase in a certain type of receptor in a part of Eddie’s brain.

Honestly, they hadn't even noticed anything until today because Eddie’s brain changes all the time, when they have sex or when they go for a run or eat something delicious. He sometimes acts different in certain predictable ways—he gets distracted, tired, and wants to sleep too much. Venom now associates these behavioral changes with slightly lower levels of serotonin lingering in the spaces between the neurons of Eddie’s brain. The internet says this is called _depression_. That change usually lasts for a week or two and then goes away. Sometimes they get impatient and fix it themselves, giving his brain a little push, when Eddie doesn't get better fast enough.

They have no way of knowing if _these_ changes are important. So far, he doesn't seem very different.

And, yet, Eddie had trouble falling asleep tonight, even after two rounds of sex. That almost never happens. He was tired, but he was thinking in that disorganized way that’s so hard for Venom to follow, leaping from one half-formed idea to the next before anything can coalesce. They don't know yet if it's connected.

Ultimately they decide not to wake Eddie up. They made a promise to help and that's important. They’ll watch, instead, and gather as much information as they can.

They stay very still and stare at the stone house. The air here is wet, but it's not raining. It's night and the moon is full. Only one moon. Their eyes can see very well in the reflected light. The trees here are big. They must be _old-growth_, Eddie’s brain supplies.

This does not seem like a dream at all. It's not random enough, and Venom can't recognize where these images are coming from. Not from Eddie's memories, not from his imagination—those neurons are not very active. These images are new, like Eddie is experiencing this now, data flooding fresh into his sensory systems. Eddie is definitely asleep, but the pattern of neurons firing is not the same as when he dreams.

They don't know what this is yet, but it could be a clue. And Eddie needs their help. They're a team now, solving this mystery together, so they will help.

_**Get closer, Eddie, **_they say.

Eddie obediently walks toward the house. Up close, it looks exactly like the house in the pictures. The white stone is mostly calcium carbonate with a few contaminants they can't yet identify. There is moss growing on the surface. Venom uses all of Eddie's knowledge about the growth of moss—which isn't much—to conclude that the stone house is old because moss takes a long time to grow. The iron oxide smell is stronger here.

They walk around the stone house. It's small—each wall is only about fifteen feet across. There are no windows, just like Mrs. Koslowski said, only the doorway with the curved top, darkness inside. They come back around to the front and stop in front of the doorway, keeping a safe distance.

It's too dark inside, Venom thinks. The interior should be illuminated by reflected moonlight, but they can see nothing beyond the threshold.

Eddie wants to go inside. Venom has to restrain him, freeze his muscles to stop him from taking another step forward.

_ **Wait, Eddie.** _

They _should_ go in, Venom thinks. A detective on TV would go in. A detective would want to see what's inside, to solve the mystery. TV detectives face danger all the time to solve mysteries. But TV is fake and this is real, so Venom is cautious.

They need more information before they make a decision.

Venom looks around again, tilts Eddie’s head so they can hear better. The forest here is so still—it's too quiet. Night creatures should be out, moving, hunting. The smell is all wrong, too, like no other place they've smelled on this planet before. Something is missing.

There are no animals here, they realize, only plants. No animals at all where there should be thousands and thousands. No squirrels or birds in the trees, no insects in the leaf litter, no small mammals burrowing underground. No deer, no bears. No humans.

_Nothing_.

Venom growls a warning. This is a bad place, they're sure now.

Eddie takes a faltering step back. He still wants to go in, but he's afraid.

** _Don't go in there._ **

They don't know why yet, but they know it's dangerous. Eddie’s body is safe in bed, but there are things out there that can damage his mind, even from far away. The universe is an infinite place, full of infinite dangers. The Klyntar hivemind offers memories of beings who can tear holes in space, control other living things with just their thoughts. There are beings that feed on the consciousness of others, beings that can slip into the minds of others and destroy them from the inside out like a parasite feeding in the hollow shell of a host.

The Klyntar are strong and feared throughout the galaxy, but they have only survived for so long because they are also cautious and careful. Venom doesn't know what’s in Bailey yet, but it is always wise to be cautious and careful.

_**This is not safe, and we can't stay here. **_They stimulate Eddie’s brain, pull him gently back from sleep. _**Time to wake up, Eddie.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm still alive (for now). Sorry for the massive delay! This chapter got super long and was super hard to write, but it's finally done. Thanks for being patient.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: mental illness, discussion of mental illness, past suicide attempt, rough sex, someone is uncertain during sex (but then okay!), cannibalistic thoughts

_Thursday, Aug 12_

_Got my trip all planned. Now I just need to pack and I will be ready to go! With everything that's happened in the last few years, and my job being as crazy as it always is, I just really needed a break. _

_My boss gets it, but he's just about the only person who does._

_I could tell Jess was hurt when I told her I wanted to go alone. I think she was picturing some Thelma and Louise style road trip, just the two of us. I can't really blame her for being upset. But I want something that's mine, you know? Just me and my camera seeing the sights. I had to promise to go on that Florida Keys trip with her and Caroline when I get back. They've been planning that thing for about five years. _

_I feel like I've never been alone in my life. I've always been surrounded by people. Good people, for the most part, but I've never really had the chance to be alone with just myself. I wonder if we’ll still get along once we've spent some time together._

* * *

Eddie rolls over in bed so he can stare at the window. The light seeping in past the edges of the curtains is bright. It must be late, he thinks, but he’s just woken up. Venom is strangely quiet inside him, almost… distant.

He’s not sure why they slept in so late. Venom usually gets them up at the crack of dawn. Did anything happen last night? Eddie can remember dreaming. A dream about the stone house again. He was standing in front of it, but… that's all. Nothing else happened, nothing interesting or useful. And he can remember being woken up by Venom, but not much else after that, just a blank space in his memory. He must have gone back to sleep.

Eddie’s hand creeps down almost unconsciously under the blankets, sliding over his stomach to his crotch. He's hard as a rock. That's not weird; he wakes up horny a lot, but this feels more urgent somehow. His stomach growls and he ignores it. The faint, burning hunger he can feel from Venom is easy to ignore, too.

“Hey, V?” he mumbles. It's weird that Venom isn't already out, wrapped around him. “Wanna help me take care of this?”

Venom grumbles—the first sign that his symbiote is actually awake. _**No.**_

“No?” That’s unusual, too. Venom almost always says yes when he wants to fuck. “Why not?”

_ **Sex is an energy drain. We need to eat something first.** _

“Fine,” Eddie snaps. Always with the fucking food, he thinks. Everything in his goddamn life now is about food or eating.

He kicks off the covers and stands up. Too fast, apparently. The room spins and he reaches out and grabs the desk to keep from toppling over.

“That's weird,” Eddie mutters. Maybe he's coming down with something? Or he drank too much last night? Whatever it is, the dizziness fades quickly once he's on his feet. He steps away from the bed and starts pacing, slowly at first and then faster when his legs are steadier. He's suddenly irritated. At Venom, at this fucking shitty motel room, at his dick, he's not sure what else. He feels strange, almost… hollowed out inside.

The walking doesn't help, so Eddie stops and sits on the edge of the bed. He wants to chew on his fingers or scratch his arms up, but he forces his hands down, grips the quilt instead.

“We need to go,” he says, but he's not sure why. And what was he just doing? He looks down and his shoes are already on his feet, unlaced. He can't even remember putting them on. He's not wearing any pants, though.

_**Where? To find food? **_Venom asks.

“I'm… I'm not sure.” He really has no idea. He just… doesn't want to stay here. They _can't_ stay here, he decides. He kicks his boots off again, finds a pair of jeans on the floor and steps into them.

He loses his balance again and almost kicks over the box of photos. And there's the map they were looking at in the bar last night, sitting on the bedside table. He remembers drawing a circle around the logging camp, the place where Michelle’s car broke down. “We need to find the stone house. That's the key. That's how we're gonna find Michelle.”

_ **We need food first.** _

His hands are shaking, trying to get his jeans buttoned. “You can just eat my kidney or something.”

More grumbling from Venom. _**Already did.**_

Is that why he feels so weird and empty this morning? Eddie finally gets his belt buckled. He grabs the map off the bedside table, tries to fold it, but he can't seem to get the damn thing to work. Or maybe his hands are the problem? There's a tremor there that he's never noticed before. They don't need the map, anyway, so he drops it.

He nods at the door to their room. “Forest Service Road 3253, remember? That's where this place has to be. Or right nearby. Come on, V. We're so close now. There's something out there. I can feel it.”

He freezes and shakes his head, confused. _That was a really weird thing to say_, he thinks. Why did he just say that?

Venom grunts. There's the familiar sensation of the alien moving inside him, restless, surfacing. _**We can't do that right now, Eddie. We’ve got other shit to do.**_

“What?” he says. There's a t-shirt on the bed, probably the one he wore yesterday, but who gives a shit. He reaches out and grabs it. “What do we have to—”

And then blackness closes in all around him.

* * *

Venom needs time to think.

Eddie is tired enough that keeping him asleep inside their full form is easy. They pace around as quietly as they can, repeating the same pattern Eddie made across the worn polyester carpet, from one side of the small room to the other, ducking slightly so they don't bump their head on the low ceiling. Their feet stir up dust and dust mites, old skin cells, human and animal hair.

They aren't sure what to do. Eddie is acting strange and they still don't know why. They can hear Eddie just fine when he speaks to them in his head, but the usual stream of his thoughts they’ve become used to hearing is muffled. This morning, they’re almost incomprehensible, like trying to listen to a language they don't understand. Their host’s words don't make much sense either.

His desires, though! Those are stronger than ever. The way he'd wanted sex when they're almost literally starving to death, the compulsion to go into the forest, to find the stone house, even if Eddie doesn't really know why.

Venom knows the stone house, or something inside it, must be the source. Logically, it seems obvious that whatever happened to Agent Savoy is happening to Eddie now. They stop pacing and bare their teeth at the thought of what might be in there. The thing that’s hurting Eddie.

Their first instinct is to rush out there, find this place, and tear whatever’s living inside it apart. Eat its fucking head, if it has one. But that might be dangerous. Eddie wants to go there. _Too much_. And they felt that desire infecting them when Eddie was awake, making them want it, too. It would be so easy to be swept away. To give in to that unnatural compulsion.

The whole thing feels like a trap. And the Klyntar are always wary of traps.

After pacing for a few minutes, they realize Eddie needs to urinate. _Urgently_. They squeeze into the bathroom and consider the problem. Urinating will be easier using Eddie’s body. Venom slips back down under their host’s skin, careful to keep him asleep.

Eddie’s pants are difficult to open, even with human fingers. And Eddie is still slightly aroused, which will make it harder to go, based on Eddie’s memories, so they drain more blood from his penis. Still, their aim sucks at first, and some urine goes on the floor. Can't be helped, they decide. Also, there was already old urine down there.

The microorganisms on this planet can't hurt them, but they wash Eddie’s hands carefully anyway because Eddie says it's rude to spread dick germs everywhere.

Venom stops in front of the mirror to consider their host. Eddie looks tired, they think. His skin is too white. His beard is growing too long. Venom could shave some of it off—they've seen Eddie do it often enough—but then they remember how much trouble the pants were. They would probably cause more damage than they can heal right now. More importantly, it's a waste of time.

They lean forward over the sink. Eddie’s eyes_—their_ eyes—are flat, expressionless. It's not the same as when Eddie looks at the mirror.

Venom tries to make Eddie smile. Their first attempt doesn't go well—_their_ teeth come out. It's too much of a smile to be human. Their second doesn't look right either—it's all Eddie's face this time, but this smile is more of a grimace than what Eddie usually does.

They remember how much Anne likes Eddie’s smile, especially his crooked tooth. That smile could brighten a room, disarm the most recalcitrant witness, make her shitty day so much better, just seeing it when she got home. Venom likes Eddie’s smile, too, more than they can express in human words. They miss Eddie’s smile.

After a few seconds, they decide they’ve had enough of feeling sorry for themselves—it's such a human folly. And they’ve got stuff to do. They cover Eddie’s skin again and leave the bathroom.

Venom feels lost without Eddie’s guidance, though. Aimless. Half of a whole. As much as they give Eddie shit for it, he’s actually pretty smart for a human. Eddie’s ideas are usually better than theirs. They don't know where to start looking for a solution to this problem. The TV detectives make it look easy, but it's not.

Venom’s eyes fall on the box of stuff Fury gave them, on the floor near the bed. They remember Eddie talking about how Dan might be able to help them understand the medical reports. Dan is a doctor so he knows about human brains. Dan could help them now, Venom thinks. Plus, they _like_ Dan. Eddie still doesn't believe them, but they've liked Dan since they bonded with Anne. If Dan can figure out what the changes in Eddie’s behavior mean, they might be able to figure out what’s inside the stone house.

They _are_ very hungry this morning, but they can wait a little longer, they decide. There is always a difference between hosts—how quickly they spend energy, how often it needs to be replenished. They know their limits now, after living with Eddie for a while. They have some time before things get too desperate.

Eddie’s phone is in his jacket, which is draped over the back of a chair. They pull the phone out of a pocket and uncover the tips of Eddie’s fingers to work the touch screen. Scrolling through, they realize Eddie has a lot of numbers in his contacts. He forgets to add the names to them after people call him. They can't find Dan’s name here or a number that looks familiar. Anne is there, though, so they decide to call her. Dan is at her house a lot lately.

She picks up after two rings. “Eddie, hi. What's up?” Venom can hear the rush of water and the sound of dishes moving around in the background.

**“Anne. This is Venom.”**

They've never called Anne before. The water shuts off abruptly. “Venom? Where’s Eddie? Did something happen?” There's a sudden edge of fear in her voice that makes Venom feel bad.

**“Eddie is asleep. I needed to talk to Dan, so I made him sleep. Is Dan with you?”**

“Uh… Yes, he's here.”

**“Give Dan the phone.” **That was not very polite, they realize. Eddie wouldn't talk to Anne that way. **“Please,” **they add.

“Oh, um, okay… Okay. Hold on.” They can hear Anne’s voice calling, “Dan? It's for you. It's… it's Venom.”

There's a long pause, and more muffled voices, but Venom can't hear what they're saying. And then Dan comes to the phone. “Hey, uh, Venom. What's up?”

Hearing Dan’s calm voice makes Venom realize how terrified they are. They're so hungry and scared for Eddie and they don't like feeling this way.

**“We need your help. Eddie is acting different and I'm worried about him. He’s tired, but he doesn't want to sleep. He doesn't want to eat. He doesn't care about people or their stories. Something’s happened to him. His thoughts are very hard for me to hear. His brain is different. He—”**

“Whoa, hold on. Just… slow down, okay? You're up in Oregon right now?”

**“Yes,” **they growl. They hate being afraid. **“We don't want to be here but that asshole Nick Fury made us come!” **But then… maybe they weren't supposed to say anything about that. Eddie said they were on a _secret mission_.

“Well,” is all Dan says, though. “Okay, that’s, huh…” It doesn't make much sense to Venom without Eddie’s thoughts to clarify the meaning. They can hear Anne saying something in the background. “But Eddie’s safe right now? You're not in any immediate danger?”

**“No. We’re safe.”**

“Okay, that's good. So, when did Eddie start acting differently?”

**“Two days ago.”**

“Did he hit his head or… experience any trauma to his brain? A seizure or anything like that?”

**“No. I would have noticed and fixed it.”**

“Okay. That's good, that's good. Did these changes start suddenly or more gradually?”

**“Gradually. I didn't notice anything was different at first.”**

“Okay. Tell me again how his behavior’s changed?”

Venom tries to think back to how it started. **“Eddie stopped paying attention to people when they were talking about boring shit. We’re starving here, but he doesn't want to eat. He doesn't want to sleep, but he's very tired. Today, he woke up and he wants to go somewhere, but he doesn't know why. His thoughts are not normal; they’re very hard for me to hear. I had to make him sleep to keep him from leaving.”** They decide to leave out the dreams for now. And the sex thing—Eddie isn't quite ready to tell Anne and Dan about that part of their relationship. Eddie said he doesn't think they can _handle it_.

There's another long pause; Dan is thinking. “You said his brain is different, too. How is it different?”

**“The amount of some of his neurotransmitters has changed. And some of the receptors for them.”**

“Do you know which ones? Their names?”

**“One is called dopamine. I looked up the chemical composition on Eddie’s phone.”**

“Hold on for just a moment, Venom.” Dan’s voice becomes muffled, but Venom can hear. He says, “Does Eddie have a history of bipolar disorder, or episodes of mania? Any other mental illness?” He must be talking to Anne because he asked Venom to wait.

“Um, he has ADHD, I think.” Anne’s voice sounds far away. “He used to take Ritalin, but he stopped a few years ago. And he was hospitalized for depression a long time ago.”

“How long ago?”

“I don't know. It was years ago. Way before I met him. He never really talked about it much, said it was during a bad period in his life. Something that happened in New York? He was using drugs and I think he was suicidal.”

**“He wasn't suicidal! He did not try to kill himself! Eddie wouldn't do that! He just didn't care if he lived or died back then. There's a difference.”**

Dan’s voice comes back to the phone. “Okay, buddy. I'm sorry. I was just asking. I'm not judging. I need to get as much information as I can so I can help Eddie. We all want to help Eddie, right?”

**“Yes.” **They shouldn't yell at Dan. Eddie would never yell at Dan. Dan is just trying to help them. **“Sorry,”** they add, because that's what Eddie would do. Eddie would apologize.

“That's okay, buddy.” Dan is quiet again for a while. “Okay. So, based on what you've said so far, Eddie’s symptoms don't sound like he’s depressed.”

**“He's not depressed. When he gets depressed his serotonin levels are lower. And he sleeps too much and doesn't want to shower or do anything interesting. This is different.”**

“Yes, I agree. This sounds more like a manic episode. You said there's more dopamine in his brain. And more of some type of receptor?”

**“Yes. Where dopamine binds.”**

“Ah. Well, I suppose that could contribute to some of the behavior changes you've noticed. Though… I have no idea what could trigger something like that, if he has no history of mania or bipolar disorder… You said Eddie’s been having trouble sleeping?”

**“Yes.”**

“Lack of sleep can sometimes trigger a manic episode. Did Eddie’s sleeplessness start before or after you noticed everything else?”

**“I don't know.” **They should probably tell Dan about the dreams, but they don't want to.

They think about Dan’s diagnosis. _Mania_. They've read about that. Eddie often has trouble sleeping, so that's not new. But this behavior has never happened before. Venom knows something external must have caused this—the same thing that happened to Agent Savoy—but they can't tell Dan about that either. They remember Eddie’s vague worries that revealing too much could put Anne and Dan in danger from Fury’s people. They've already given Dan enough information about their secret mission.

**“Is this dangerous for Eddie?”**

Dan sighs, which Venom knows is never good. “I don't know, buddy. The brain changes you mentioned aren't dangerous by themselves, but if they're affecting his behavior… I’m worried he might have trouble controlling his impulses, or making good decisions.”

**“Hmmm,” **they say. That sounds a little like how Eddie is all the time. But they understand what Dan is saying: Eddie could be a danger to himself. Especially here, especially now. **“Thank you, Dan.”**

“Stay safe, okay? Call me anytime if you need help.”

**“We will.”** They like Dan even more now.

Venom puts the phone down on the bed. They need to go out to get food, but it's the middle of the day. They can't be seen looking like this, but no one will notice Eddie. They slip back under their host’s skin.

Humans always wear clothes to go outside, so they put on the shirt Eddie dropped on the floor. His phone might be useful, too, so they tuck that into Eddie’s pocket.

When they're ready, they slip down the stairs to the bar. They can smell the owner’s disgusting cigarette smoke before they see him, sitting in his usual place in front of the rows of glasses, reading a newspaper. The bearded men who always sit at the bar for lunch are not there. Luckily, Lorraine isn't around either, so they can leave without having to talk to any humans.

Outside, it's cool and bright. Damp. Venom walks Eddie’s body up a small hillside and then down into a little ravine with a small creek at the bottom. It's slow going using human legs and feet, and they get pretty muddy. The trees here are big and there are lots of plants to hide in. They stop and listen for any human sounds once they're well away from the motel, but they don't hear anything. No one’s around. It's okay to come back out here.

They climb high up into trees and catch three squirrels, tear apart a rotten log to find a chipmunk cowering underneath. The creek here has more small lobsters and fish, and tiny, soft-gilled creatures hiding between rocks. Meager snacks, all of them. They even eat more of those berries Eddie liked, because Eddie’s body needs certain plant-based vitamins to function properly, but the berries are almost more work to eat than they're worth.

There is not enough in this forest to feed them. Venom misses the bay with its fat sea lions and big, juicy fish. They miss the city with its dark alleys and hordes of bad guys, just waiting to leap out at them and become tasty snacks. They don't like it here. They remember the absolute silence around the stone house in Eddie’s dream. This forest should be full of life, full of food, but it's not.

Their search brings them to a steep hillside above a familiar cabin. Venom lifts their head and lets their long tongue slide out, tasting the air. _Yes_. They were here yesterday. They had brownies. Eddie asked questions. Venom has more questions now. They slip back down to hide under Eddie’s skin.

The dogs start barking before Venom even steps up onto the porch. They stride across without hesitating, even though the sound sets them on edge, makes control of their host body more difficult. The dogs are annoying, and Venom’s starving, but they promised Eddie they would never eat dogs.

Plus, they need Mrs. Koslowski’s help. She probably won't help them if they eat her pets.

The dogs’ shrill barking gets close to unbearable when they reach the door. Venom growls low and the noise suddenly stops. They can hear whimpering coming from behind the door. _Better_. Venom lifts Eddie’s hand and knocks three times.

After a few seconds, the door opens and Mrs. Koslowski peeks out. “Oh, Eddie! Hello. Would you like to come in?”

“Yes,” they say.

“Okay, dear. Let me just put the dogs away—something out there has got ‘em spooked good.” She opens the door wider and lets them inside.

Venom says nothing, just nods as she pushes the dogs toward the kitchen. Their tails are tucked between their legs and their ears are flat. They keep looking back at them and baring their teeth.

Venom bares their own teeth. They're just Eddie’s pathetic human teeth, but they seem to do the trick; the dogs slink away, chastened.

Venom looks around, sniffs the air. The smell of chocolate isn't as strong, just the faintest trace. The room smells like old paper, stale coffee, dogs, and woodsmoke. There's a fire burning in the fireplace. They stay well away from it as they move into the room.

Mrs. Koslowski comes back, saying, “Sorry about that, dear. I wasn't expecting company today, what with the weather turning and—” She stops and looks down at their feet, back up at their face, her eyes narrowed. “Are you okay, dear? You seem a bit… out of sorts.”

“I'm fine,” Venom says. But it must have been the wrong thing to say because Mrs. Koslowski suddenly steps away from them and her movements become slower, more deliberate. Human behavior is much harder for them to interpret without Eddie's constant input. This looks like caution, they decide.

She doesn't speak until she's six feet away, and her voice comes out hushed and thin. “Oh,” she says. “You're—you’re not Eddie. Are you, dear?” The dogs start scratching at the kitchen door.

Venom tilts Eddie’s head to the side, thinking about their attempt at a smile this morning. They can move Eddie’s body around, almost as deftly now as Eddie himself, but they can't quite mimic Eddie’s human mannerisms. Not yet.

“No,” they say, because there doesn't seem to be any point in lying anymore. “I’m not Eddie. I am Venom.”

“Oh, well… Venom. It's… nice to meet you, I suppose.” She doesn't sound very sure about that. “Are you and Eddie the same person?”

She thinks they're crazy, which is fine. Eddie said most people would assume that, especially when Eddie talks to them out in public. Still, they don't like to lie or mislead. “No, we’re not the same. But Eddie and I are always together. We are…” They try to think of a way to explain what they are that will make sense to her. “We are partners. We share the same body.”

“Oh.” She wrings her hands. “Did you need something, dear? You must have come here for some reason.” She looks back toward the kitchen where she’d locked up the dogs.

Venom can smell the fear coming from her, the sharp, bitter tang of adrenaline. Eddie never has this effect on other humans. Eddie wouldn't hurt anyone. Not on purpose. Eddie is harmless. _They_, however, are not.

“Yes. We need information.” But Venom doesn't want to scare her too much. She was nice to them and gave them brownies. “You're safe. I won’t eat you. I promise.”

She swallows hard and the smell of fear gets more intense, but she nods and says, “Okay, dear. That's… nice to hear. W-won't you sit down?” She gestures to the sofa Eddie sat on before.

Venom considers it for a moment—the distance from the fire—and then sits.

Mrs. Koslowski takes a deep breath, but she walks over to the chair by the fireplace and sits down, too. “What—what would you like to know?” she says.

_What would Eddie want to know?_ they wonder. Eddie is better at asking questions, because he's a reporter. Eddie asked a lot of questions the last time they were here—things _he_ thought were important. But Eddie didn't ask about everything. And people aren't the only things missing in Bailey, Oregon. “Why are there no animals here? No deer? No bears?”

Mrs. Koslowski seems surprised by the question. “Oh. Yes. That _is_ strange, isn't it? I’ve noticed that, too. I… I don't know why they're gone. It hasn't always been this way—I remember seeing deer all the time when I was a little girl. But I think… I think they might have been driven away by something. Or… or something may have eaten them.”

Venom nods, because that's what Eddie would do. And because they agree: something is eating them. Some predator here in the forest. They've been sensing this the whole time without realizing it. They're intruding on some other creature’s hunting ground.

“What is the stone house?”

She shakes her head. “I don't know what it is. I didn't even know it was real until you_—until Eddie_—showed me that photo yesterday.”

“But you can guess what it is. You said you've been thinking about it for years. You know more about it than anyone else we've talked to. You have ideas.” Humans like to speculate, far more than Klyntar do. Venom mostly considers this a weakness, but they don't have enough information to make a decision yet. Human speculation will have to suffice for real data.

“That's true. You're right, of course. I _have_ been thinking about it. For as long as I can remember, I've been thinking about it.” She takes a deep breath.

Venom waits patiently. The ticking clock on the mantle is very loud.

“I believe…” she says slowly. “I believe it's a doorway. To another place.”

“The desert,” Venom says. “The place with two moons.” They had not considered this before, but it feels correct.

“Yes,” she agrees, sitting forward eagerly, fear momentarily forgotten. “Is that possible, do you think?”

Venom doesn't need to think about it. “Yes,” they say. Gateways that connect two points in space are common enough in the galaxy, used for all travel across vast distances. This gateway is not the same as the jump points they’ve travelled through before, but the principles must be similar.

“You don't seem shocked by that at all,” she says. “Most folks around here would call me crazy for even thinking such a thing.”

“I've seen many strange things,” they say. And then they remember to be polite. “Thank you. For the information.”

Mrs. Koslowski nods. “Of course, dear. Do you mind if I ask you a question?” She doesn't seem quite so afraid of them anymore.

Venom thinks this over. It seems only fair. “You can ask. I might not answer.”

“I'm sorry if this is a rude question, but… What—what are you, dear?”

Is this safe to answer? Eddie has told people the truth before because he assumes they won't believe him. Mrs. Koslowski might actually believe them, but she's also a friend. They decide to tell the truth. “I come from another planet. My species are called the Klyntar.”

“You're… an alien?”

“Yes.”

“And what about Eddie…?”

“Eddie is human. He comes from New York.”

“Oh.” Her mouth twitches at the corner like she might smile. “And the two of you… share a body?”

“Yes. We are partners. We share everything. But something’s wrong with Eddie today. He lied to you the last time we were here, when you asked him about the dreams. He's been having them every night since we came to Bailey. And now, whatever happened to the others who disappeared is happening to Eddie. And I'm worried about him.”

_Because I love him, _they almost add. But that seems like the kind of information Eddie wouldn’t want them to share, even with Mrs. Koslowski.

She gives him a sad smile. “I know, my dear. I could tell he was lying.”

“Eddie _is_ a terrible liar.” And then, because it's useful to talk to someone and they can't talk to Eddie right now, they say, “I think the dreams are a trap. To lure people to the stone house.”

Mrs. Koslowski nods, eager. “Yes,” she says. “I agree. The animals, too. Something… something wants them to go there.”

They grunt and sit back on the sofa, thinking. Their hand has crept up to their face, they realize, and they've subconsciously started chewing on the skin around their nails, just like Eddie would do. Venom stares down at Eddie’s fingers for a moment. They can't afford to heal such minor damage right now.

“And you're not here to write an article about the woman who disappeared, are you?”

“No,” they say. “Eddie _is_ a reporter. But we’re not here to write a story.” They pause again, thinking. Even if they didn't want to come to Bailey, they're here now. So they should do _something_. Because that's what heroes would do. “We’re here to stop this. To stop people from disappearing,” Venom says. They've just decided this, but it feels _right_. Eddie would be proud.

Mrs. Koslowski nods. “I hope you can. This… _thing_, whatever it is, has been a dark cloud hanging over our town for so long. So many families left broken-hearted and without answers, so many people lost. I hope you can stop it. If anyone can, it’ll be an alien and a nice young man from New York. Now, tell me… what else can I do to help?”

They've already asked any questions they can think of, but… Eddie’s stomach churns and squeaks. “Do you have any more brownies?”

“I'm afraid I ate the last one with my coffee this morning.”

“Eddie says chocolate isn't for breakfast,” Venom says before they can stop themselves.

This finally makes Mrs. Koslowski smile. “Well, when you get to be my age, my dear, you can eat whatever you like for breakfast.”

This is an interesting point that Venom hasn't thought of before. They are young for a Klyntar—only a few thousand standard rotations—but they are far older than Eddie. They will definitely bring this up with Eddie when they get back home, point out that he's full of shit.

Mrs. Koslowski says, “You must really like chocolate.”

“Yes. We require a chemical found in chocolate. Phenethylamine.” They decide not to mention brains, for now.

“Oh. I see.” She makes a humming sound. “Well, I don't have any brownies, but I do have some cocoa powder, if chocolate’s what you need. It’s not sweet, but… Would you like it?”

“I’ll try it.” They're a little doubtful; Anne had some packets of powder in her kitchen that said _hot chocolate. _They ate all of them while they were supposed to be cat-sitting Mr. Belvedere and Eddie was sleeping. But those weren't very good. Not a lot of chocolate, mostly other crap, like sugar, dried milk solids, and cellulose gum.

This cocoa powder is perfect, though—so much chocolate in concentrated form!—but almost too dry for Eddie’s human throat to swallow. Venom would just come out and eat it themselves, but most humans are terrified of their true shape, and they've already frightened Mrs. Koslowski enough. She notices them having trouble and mixes it with some milk to make a paste for them, which is much better.

Venom eats the two canisters of cocoa powder that Mrs. Koslowski has in her cupboard, and a box of something called _baker’s chocolate_. That's good, too. Mrs. Koslowski says they can buy as much as they want in any grocery store.

They will have to mention cocoa powder and baker’s chocolate to Eddie later. When he's better. When they can go back home.

* * *

Eddie wakes up and realizes he's standing in cold water up to his knees.

He blinks a few times and looks around. He's in a wide, slow part of the creek, somewhere out in the forest. It looks like it's just starting to snow—big, soft flakes drift down gently, melting as soon as they hit the ground. A low-hanging fog is obscuring the tops of the trees, almost like they're standing inside a cloud. The light coming through the mist is a golden orange—the color of late afternoon. The only sound he can hear is water rushing over stones. Venom’s black tendrils are hanging out of him, sprouting from his thighs and torso, spread out in the water. He's not cold.

“Oh,” he says, like an idiot. But this whole thing is surreal as fuck. “Uh, V?” There's no need to panic just yet, not until he knows what's going on. “What's up?”

_ **We are fishing. Mrs. Koslowski said this was the best place to find big fish. She was right.** _

“You went to see Mrs. Koslowski? Like this?”

_ **We needed information.** _

“What did you…?” Eddie shakes his head. “You know what? Forget that. Just… never mind. You didn't eat her, did you?”

_ **Of course not, Eddie. She gave us chocolate.** _

He _is_ slightly less hungry, maybe. He doesn't feel normal, though. There's _something…_ “We need to go,” he says. The words seem to leap out of his mouth before he can even process them.

Why did he just say that?

Venom’s voice in his head is tense. _**We need to eat more, Eddie. Our cells are on the verge of starvation.**_

“Yeah, but… How did we get here?”

_ **We walked.** _

“While I was asleep?”

_ **Yes.** _

“Okay,” he says slowly. Venom’s never taken them anywhere when he was asleep before. And wasn't he awake earlier? He has vague memories of getting dressed, putting on his pants—trying to, anyway—before everything went black.

“Hey, did you—”

**_Someone's coming, _**Venom says, and Eddie only has time to say, “Wha…?” before the tendrils still out in the water snap back inside of him fast enough to make him lose his balance and fall sideways into the creek.

He jumps back up and swipes the water off his face, splashing and cursing. And that's when a man’s shape suddenly appears on the ridge above them, features obscured by the water still in Eddie’s eyes and the thick fog.

A familiar voice calls down, “Eddie?! Is that you? What the heck are you doing down there? Are you in the water?!”

Eddie groans. It's Ranger Rick, of course. “How does this fucker always know exactly where we are?” he mutters.

Venom grumbles in agreement.

“Hello? Eddie?” The guy’s voice echoes strangely through the forest, swallowed up almost before it can reach them. “You okay?”

“Yeah, it's me,” Eddie calls. “I'm just, uh…I’m…” And what the fuck was he doing, anyway? “I just fell in,” he says. It's not exactly a lie.

Rick is suddenly rushing down the hill towards him, like he's excited he’ll finally get the chance to enact a water rescue. “Holy shit! You must be freezing! Do you need help?”

Eddie manages to stumble out onto the creek bank before Rick can jump into the water and save him. “Nah, I'm fine. I'm good,” he says, because he actually is. It's just water.

Rick keeps trying to grab him, though, like Eddie might dive back in at any second. Eddie shakes off his hand and walks up the bank. “I'm okay, man. I'm fine.”

“My place is just over there.” Rick points somewhere off into the mist. “You should come in and get warmed up. At least let me get you a towel or something. You must be freezing! It's freezing out here.”

Eddie scratches at his head and looks around. He really shouldn't, doesn't want to, but this asshole might call the cops or the fucking forest service if he acts too weird. He shrugs, resigned to being rescued. “Okay. Thanks.”

Ranger Rick’s place is just a short walk up a hill from the creek, tucked back in a stand of trees. A standard log-cabin type A-frame with a forest service truck parked in the gravel drive. At least that explains how he managed to find them so fast, Eddie thinks. He was starting to get suspicious that they were being followed.

Rick keeps up a steady commentary the whole way up the hill, mostly about the weather and fishing regulations, shooting concerned looks over at them as they walk. Eddie manages to ignore most of it.

He feels weird. Something's different. It takes him a few minutes of listening to Rick’s chatter to realize he can't feel Venom, like, at all. Normally, the symbiote's presence is obvious, a constant reassuring shadow. But this sudden silence is like an empty space inside him. He hasn't felt so alone for a long time.

_What if?_ There's no way in hell, because they were just talking, but… _What if?_ his traitorous brain insists, _what if something happened when he fell in the water?_

_You still there, bud? _

_ **Of course.** _

His breath whooshes out in stupid relief. _Yeah, okay. Sorry, sorry… just having trouble hearing you._

_**Me, too, **_Venom says.

Rick pauses before opening the front door. “You sure you're okay there, Eddie? You're awfully quiet.”

_You're not_, Eddie thinks, but he says, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got a lot on my mind.” Venom’s still with him, so they're okay. They can figure this out.

“Okay.” Rick opens the door and they step inside.

It's dark. Very dark, after the bright golden mist of the forest. Eddie's eyes need a second to adjust. When they do, he can see that the guy’s house is pretty modern—not nearly as rustic as it looked from the outside. Utilitarian, IKEA-style furniture in soothing blues and grays. A few black and white prints on the walls, all tastefully framed. Nothing unique or interesting at all, almost like stepping into an AirBnB. The only indication that he's not in a hotel room is an older, rusted hulk of a wood-burning stove in one corner with a pile of split logs beside it. It clashes with the rest of the place, in Eddie’s opinion.

Ranger Rick’s house is distressingly, disappointingly normal. Boring, even. He hates it.

_ **What's wrong with normal?** _

_Was kinda hoping we'd find a shit ton of incriminating evidence in here so we could finally eat this asshole._

_ **You don't like eating people.** _

_I'm willing to make an exception in this case,_ he thinks, and then, _Christ_, what the fuck is he doing? Joking around about eating someone with his cannibalistic alien partner? An alien who doesn't always understand humor. And he's so damn hungry—dangerously hungry—and this guy's only crime so far is being fucking annoying.

“_Fuck_,” he mumbles, and drops his head into his hands. _Don't eat him, V. Sorry, I'm just… I don't know what I'm thinking._

Rick turns on an ugly, plastic-looking floor lamp. The harsh blue LED light makes Eddie blink. “You sure you're okay, Eddie? Confusion can be a sign of hypothermia.”

Eddie realizes he's been standing here, staring at nothing for way too long, just having a conversation in his head with his alien parasite. At least he wasn't talking out loud. _Much_. “Yeah, I'm good,” he says.

“Let me get something for you to wear. You must be freezing.”

He's not freezing at all, actually; he's absolutely fine. But he should probably pretend he's still human. “Uh, sure. Thanks,” he adds after another too-long pause. He's feeling pretty weird. He probably shouldn't be around people right now.

Rick stares at him for a moment and then walks away down a hall. Eddie can’t hear anything in the sudden stillness, not a clock ticking, not even a refrigerator humming. Something, though… There's _something_. He tilts his head, straining to hear.

_We need to get out of here. We’re so damn close. I think… I think I can hear something._

_**Keep it together, Eddie, **_Venom says.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he mumbles. _Fuck_. What _is_ wrong with him?

Rick comes back, carrying a towel and a pile of clothes. He still has that critical, appraising look on his face. “You're not even shivering. Are you sure you're okay? You're not on drugs or something, are you?”

Eddie snorts. “No. I'm not on drugs.” And why does he get the impression that this guy doesn't actually give a fuck if he is?

“Sorry. You're just… acting pretty strange right now.” Rick hands him a big, fluffy towel. “Can I ask why you were out there in the snow, in only a t-shirt and jeans, standing in the water? I mean… you don't even have shoes on.”

Eddie glances down at his feet. Sure enough, no shoes. Venom must’ve forgot to put them back on before they went out. He notices the towel in his hands again, lifts it up and starts rubbing it sort of haphazardly over his wet hair.

Ranger Rick is still staring at him. Oh right. He’s waiting for an answer. Why were they out there? He can't seem to come up with a convincing lie right now. “I was, uh… I was…”

Actually… _Fuck it. _Who gives a shit what this guy thinks?

_We need to find the stone house,_ he says to Venom. If he stays perfectly still, if Rick would just shut the fuck up, he’s sure he’d be able to hear it. _We should go._

_**We will, Eddie. **_And there's that same undercurrent of worry from Venom that's been bothering him all morning. Still, it’s a relief to feel something, _anything_, from his symbiote even though it only feels like the smallest point of sunlight breaking through clouds when he's used to sunbathing.

“Eddie, hey? You still there?” Rick snaps his fingers right in front of his face and Eddie has to resist the sudden, insane urge to bite them off.

_Fuck_, this guy is annoying. He takes a step back and looks around at the ugly furniture, the boring-ass prints. This is not where they need to be right now, but it's close to the right place. He's not sure how he knows that, but he does.

“Yeah, I'm, uh… I’m…” he stutters. The stone house can't be far from here; he can feel it, _hear_ it. They should go. Just make up some lie and—

Rick’s hand is suddenly against his face, turning his head, trying to get his attention. His fingers feel really cool against Eddie’s skin. He actually does smell pretty good, now that he's standing so close—a weird mix of pine needles and, maybe, blood? Something metallic. Eddie wonders if that's just because Venom likes him, or if it's the pheromone thing. Why not both? He tries to focus on the guy’s face, but it's just a blur this close.

“You're not cold at all, are you? Your skin is really hot,” Rick says, pulling back a little, staring at him. “Are you sick?” He sounds concerned, but the look on his face is detached, as cold as his skin.

“No, that's…” Eddie licks his lips, swallows. He can feel Venom finally stirring inside, a slow coil in his chest, potential energy ready to strike. “That's normal… for me.”

Rick nods slowly. And then he leans in and kisses him.

* * *

Venom’s first instinct is to defend their host from this sudden attack.

Their second instinct is to kiss back, because that's what Eddie is doing—opening his mouth and letting this guy put his tongue inside. It's a bizarre sensation. The taste of Rick’s mouth is strange to them, almost like he’s been eating fish from the creek. Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. All of his arousal from this morning rushes back through them, like it was never gone.

Rick pushes their head to the side. Eddie makes a low sound and lets him, moving their tongue against Rick’s. Their host doesn’t seem at all surprised that this is happening; his heart rate has sped up only a little, not like it does when he’s afraid. But it’s still a shock to Venom that they’re suddenly kissing someone. Eddie’s just like that, though—he _goes with the flow._

Venom always thought that was because Eddie was more of a loser than a leader, but they've recently come to a different conclusion. Eddie doesn’t _want_ to be in charge, doesn’t need to be. Eddie _likes_ it when Venom is in charge, when Anne is. But just because he doesn't want to lead doesn't mean that Eddie isn’t smart. Eddie is very adaptable and adept at dealing with other humans. _Mostly_. Venom hadn't expected this scenario at all when they came up to Rick’s house, but maybe Eddie had.

They worry, though, that this might be what Dan warned them about—that Eddie would have trouble making good decisions. Still... human sex doesn't usually end with someone getting eaten, according to Eddie’s memories, so this seems like a fairly risk-free activity. And they can always eat this guy later if he turns into an asshole.

While they've been distracted, thinking, the kiss has progressed further. One of Rick’s hands has crept up along their back, under Eddie’s wet shirt. His fingers are cool, on the verge of being too cold against their hot skin, making Eddie shiver.

Rick’s other hand is pawing at the front of Eddie’s pants, Venom realizes. A thrill goes through them at the subtle feeling of deft human fingers through the fabric—fingers that aren't Eddie’s—only a hint of how good it could be without anything in the way, tantalizing. But when the fingers land on Eddie’s belt buckle, Eddie shifts back a little until the guy’s hand falls away.

Rick grunts into their mouth. A sound of displeasure, Venom thinks, though they’re not sure. Human noises all sound the same without Eddie translating for them.

Eddie makes a soothing, kind of humming sound and reaches for Rick’s belt buckle, instead. His nimble fingers have it open quickly, and then they're reaching inside, touching. Rick kisses them harder, teeth pressing against and bruising their lips, seemingly out of breath, as Eddie’s hand closes around his erection.

The skin under their fingers is soft and smooth, not as hot as Eddie’s erection would be. Venom wants to reach out and touch for themselves, sink their matter into this strange skin and really _feel_. But that might give them away. They will have to settle for what they can experience through Eddie’s senses.

Which is enough. More than enough. Flashes of memory burst like lightning in Eddie’s mind—moments in his life when he’s held someone else’s penis, memories of hot, smooth skin, memories of someone holding his penis, how it felt, memories of Venom wrapped around him, stroking and squeezing. His hand is moving on Rick’s erection, easy and confident.

Rick grunts and presses down on their shoulder in a subtle way. He doesn't seem to be pushing them away, though. Not exactly…

_ **What does he want?** _

Eddie snorts a little at their confusion. _He wants me to blow him, V._

_**I know what that is.**_ Eddie likes it when they put their mouth on him. Eddie knows how to give a blowjob—they’ve seen flashes of this in his memories before. He likes doing it.

Sure enough, Eddie lets go of Rick’s penis and lowers himself to his knees in front of the other man. Venom shifts, ready to take over if something happens—they don’t like being in this position, lowered, almost on the ground, kneeling before a stranger, a potential enemy. It makes them feel vulnerable. Eddie seems okay, though. This is familiar to him, a normal part of a human mating ritual. He’s done this before.

Rick’s hand rests on the top of their head. Venom shivers. They’re not sure about this, not sure if they like it yet. They wish they could access more of Eddie’s memories right now, so they could see how this is meant to happen. _**Eddie?**_

_It’s okay, V. Here…_

Eddie licks at the tip of Rick’s penis. Venom is instantly distracted by the taste. It's a little salty and bitter, but mostly tastes like human skin cells and oil. Not the same as Eddie’s skin, though—more alkaline. Eddie pulls his head back a little and Rick grabs their hair. Eddie’s breathing speeds up, but he doesn't seem afraid yet, only more aroused. Venom is still wary, though.

Rick reaches down with his other hand and holds his penis, strokes it lightly. He pulls them forward by the hair and rubs the end of his penis against Eddie’s lips. Eddie opens his mouth just enough to fit the head of Rick’s penis in. He sucks a little, moving his tongue along slick skin. Venom can taste a little precome. It's full of different types of proteins, more than Eddie’s semen ever is, and some hormones they can't identify. They want more, want to know what these chemicals are, so they make Eddie suck harder.

Rick moans above them.

When Eddie moves his head back to take a breath, Rick says, “hey,” and tugs at their hair. _Hard_. The pain sends a strange heat rushing through their body. He says, “hey,” again, softer this time, and pulls them forward, pushing his erect penis all the way into their mouth without even asking first. Eddie opens his mouth wide and lets him do it, even though this sudden intrusion into their throat makes them choke a little.

_**Rude,**_ Venom thinks.

They can feel a faint flash of amusement from Eddie._Yeah, maybe, but I'm gonna do this. So don't bite his dick off._

Rick begins moving his hips, pushing his erection into their mouth. Eddie sucks on him as much as he can when he pulls back, lets his throat open up when Rick pushes back in. Their mouth is watering at the taste and the feeling, swallowing as much down as they can.

They’re not scared anymore, because Eddie isn’t. But there's an edge of… not fear, exactly, because they can always eat this guy if he tries something they don't like. _Non-trust_, is the best way Venom can describe it. They don't know this person. They don't know what he might do. They have no way to predict _what_ he might do. It's interesting.

Rick moans, moving his hips faster, and it's definitely a sound of pleasure this time. “Knew you'd be good at this, with a mouth like that…” he says.

Eddie’s simultaneously irritated and aroused by these words. Something he's heard variations on for most of his life, according to his memories. Does he like hearing this or does he hate it? Venom grabs at the fleeting glimpses Eddie’s mind offers, trying to find some commonality. He's been scared, he’s been bored, he's been angry enough to punch someone’s face and break their nose, he's begged someone for more, for them to call him a slut and tell him he deserves it. They can't find a pattern that makes sense.

The harder Rick pushes into their mouth—almost hard enough to leave bruises on their lips—the more violent he becomes, the harder he pulls on their hair, the more Eddie’s muscles relax, the looser his body gets. Eddie’s eyes are watering. He’s breathing hard through his nose, making low, desperate sounds. He’s already close to orgasm, without even being touched. The zipper of his pants is digging painfully into their erection.

Except for when they spawn together, their pleasure is all Eddie's pleasure. This isn't very different, except they're not in control at all. Their uncertainty has turned into excitement.

They come out under Eddie’s clothes, where Rick won't see. Make a tongue so they can taste the precome leaking from their penis, thin their matter out and dip inside just a little. They can't help it. It just feels so good to be used like this, to let Eddie be used.

Eddie groans louder and tries to push their biomass away, ends up rubbing the heel of his hand against them as they wrap around and around him inside his pants.

Rick’s movements have gotten faster, the jabs into their mouth harder. His grip on their hair is tight, but they barely feel it now. Eddie’s neurons are firing too fast for them to process, drowning them in an overwhelming wave of sensation, of pleasure.

Rick suddenly goes still, buried deep inside their throat and he lets out a long, low moan. Eddie’s throat works, swallowing as much as he can without choking. The taste is alkaline, bitter, an odd mix of organic molecules, sugars, and proteins

Everything feels good now, even the pain in their jaw. When they finally come, seconds after Rick, it's almost a surprise, the way it sneaks up on them.

_**Eddie!**_ they say because it's good. It feels so good to share Eddie’s body, his pleasure.

Eddie groans around the softening penis in his mouth, his body jerks weakly in ecstasy, held up by Rick’s hands on them. Venom absorbs what they can from Eddie before their matter loses cohesion. They fall back into their host, senseless and sated.

Eddie stays motionless for a few moments, before standing up on shaky legs, still trying to catch his breath. As soon as they're on their feet, Rick twists his hand in their shirt and pulls them closer, making Eddie stumble forward, off-balance. He kisses them again, tongue pushing into their mouth. Eddie’s lips are sore and it hurts, but he kisses back.

Rick ends the kiss after a few moments. “Liked that, didn't you?” he says, voice low. His hand moves softly through the hair on the back of Eddie’s head.

Eddie ducks his head in submission. “Yeah,” he whispers.

Rick pulls them close again, so he can press his face against their neck, breathe hard on their skin. “Should we move this to the bedroom?” His other hand drifts down to their ass, gives them a hard squeeze. “Yes?”

Venom can guess what that means. It's an intriguing idea, but Eddie pulls away, saying, “I don't know, man. It was fun, but maybe some other time. I need to get going.”

Rick doesn't let go of them. His grip on their shirt tightens. “Come on, Eddie. I know you want it.” Rick’s hand dips lower, fingers teasing between their legs. “Let me…” he says.

Eddie steps away this time, ducking his head, acting submissive again but not really feeling it, from what Venom can sense. “Nah, man. Not tonight. Sorry.”

Without warning, Rick’s face twists and he suddenly shoves them away. “_You fucking cocktease!_” he yells.

They stumble backward. Venom snarls.

But Eddie's the one who rushes forward, grabs Rick by the upper arms, and slams him into the wall, hard enough to rattle the pictures in their frames.

Rick is definitely taller than them, especially this close, but Eddie is stronger. They're stronger, together. “_Don't_ fucking call me that,” Eddie says, and his voice is so quiet and controlled—so _dangerous—_Venom thrills at the sound.

Desire twists through them as Eddie’s adrenaline surges. They love him so much! They want him so badly!

They want to rip this guy’s head off and swallow it whole, eat his limbs, tear the rest of him apart, crack his bones, fuck Eddie in the remains of his corpse, lick the blood off the floor… _**Please, Eddie. Let’s eat this asshole, **_Venom begs. _**He will be so delicious!**_

Eddie tilts his head to the side slowly, seriously considering the images they're sending. “Maybe,” he says out loud. _Maybe later._

_ **Yes!** _

Rick is breathing hard, pupils dilated. Excited and only a little afraid, according to his smell. The smell of sex and adrenaline, the smell of his semen that they just ate. His arousal is driving Venom wild. The way he’d tasted… They want to eat more of him, they want to tear his throat out, they want to fuck him, to be fucked by him, they're not sure what they want anymore. Their matter writhes within the confines of their host's body, aching to come out. They are so hungry!

Eddie gives his head a shake, which helps bring the present back into focus around them. He's breathing hard now, too. “No,” he whispers. “No way.”

Venom growls in frustration.

“_Eddie…_” Rick says. It's such a strange sound—almost a whine. Venom doesn't know what it means. Does he _want_ to be eaten?

“Shut up!” Eddie gives Rick another hard shove, just for good measure, before letting him go and stepping away. He shakes his head over and over, wipes a hand over his mouth. “No. Not doing that. No fucking way.” He swallows back the saliva flooding his mouth.

They're both so hungry, _so hungry_…

_ **Please, Eddie… ** _

“That's not… what we are. We aren't like that.” He turns and walks quickly to the door. Rick doesn't stop them. He's still leaning against the wall, panting, watching them.

Eddie slams the door behind them and they're suddenly back outside. Snow is still falling. The sun is just setting over the tops of the trees. The air is cool and feels good on their skin after the dry heat of the cabin.

Eddie rubs his hands over his face. “We need to go,” he says. His hands are shaking.

Yes, they should go. Get away from this asshole and find the stone house. They're ready now. _**Where?**_ they say.

Eddie stops and tilts his head, as if listening for something. Venom can't hear anything, but they wait patiently for Eddie to decide.

“This way,” Eddie says. He steps off the porch, crosses the gravel driveway, and strides into the forest.

Venom lets Eddie guide them. They would come out and help, but they can't sense what Eddie senses. They would probably just get in his way.

Their host is unusually focused, moving quickly through the underbrush and scrambling over fallen logs and rocks. Thorns from berry bushes tear at their clothes and skin, scratching them. Stinging leaves brush them, leaving irritating hairs embedded in their flesh. Eddie doesn't seem to notice, doesn't complain about the snow or the mud or the cold, either. He doesn't say anything at all, actually, as they walk.

He takes them in a straight line, as far as Venom can tell, climbing up a narrow valley between dark forested slopes, heading northeast, away from the town. They pick up a familiar scent along the way—the same smell they remember from the journal in Fury’s box. Agent Savoy came this way, too.

Eddie’s path ends at a small clearing in the forest. True darkness descended as they walked and the moon has risen high. The light here, without the trees as cover, is as bright as day to their sensitive eyes. The sounds of night creatures fall away as Eddie moves farther from the edge of the forest. And, there, at the center of the clearing sits the stone house.

Venom growls.

_**Stop, Eddie, **_they say. But Eddie keeps walking toward it. They have to freeze their host’s leg muscles to keep him from getting too close. _**Stop!**_

“What?” Eddie blinks his eyes, like he's just waking from a long sleep.

_ **We’re here.** _

* * *

Eddie rubs the back of his hand over his mouth. He feels sick, unsteady.

The stone house looks exactly like it did in his dreams, _feels_ exactly the same. White stone blocks that look like old bone in the moonlight, no windows, only a single, arched doorway. He can't see anything inside but darkness.

Michelle was right, he thinks—this looks like a tomb.

It's so silent around them, he can hear the soft brush of snowflakes hitting the ground, finally starting to pile up as the air gets colder. White drifts against dark green. It's too quiet here.

His eyes flick back to the building in front of them. The too-black doorway feels like a mouth sucking him in. He's dizzy, just looking at it, thinking about stepping inside. Into that darkness…

Eddie takes an unsteady step back. It's not safe here. This place is _bad_.

He can feel Venom watching, assessing. _Wary_. He gestures at the doorway with a trembling hand. “What is it?”

_ **A gateway to another place.** _

“Another place…? You mean, like… another planet?”

_ **I think so. And… I can sense that Agent Savoy was here. This is where she disappeared.** _

Eddie shakes his head, scattering the flakes stuck to his hair and beard. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of everything, but nothing about this is funny. “How the fuck is something like that possible?”

_ **Anything’s possible, Eddie. The universe is infinite.** _

“But… why? Why here? In bumfuck Oregon?” Because who would build such a thing? And why? How?

_ **I don't know why. But maybe… it's here so it can stay hidden.** _

“Yeah.” That makes sense, he guesses. Whatever the fuck this thing is, it sure as hell ain’t good.

He scrubs his hands over his face. “You said you can sense Michelle? You think she went in there?”

_ **Yes. The same person who wrote in the diary. Old skin cells have been left behind along the path we followed, but the trail stops here. ** _

“Uh…” Eddie doesn't know if that's good or bad. Maybe she didn't kill herself like he’d feared, but didn't she disappear months ago? “If she went in there, is she… could she still be alive? On another planet?”

_ **I can't tell from here.** _

_Oh, fuck. _“What if she's still in there? And she can't… she can't get out? What if she's trapped over there?” How would he feel stranded on an alien planet? Alone. Fucking terrified. He’s breathing too hard already. He tries to swallow and can't. _Shit_, he’s gonna lose it, just thinking about it.

They should… They need to help her, if it's not already too late.

_**Eddie… **_Venom says in warning.

“We have to…” Eddie pulls his phone out of his pocket, but it slips out of his wet hand and drops to the ground. _Fuck_. It's fine, _it's fine! _

He picks it up again, brushes the snow off. “We have to, uh… to call Nick Fury. He can deal with this. He should know… he’ll know how to deal with shit like this.” He presses the button, but the screen stays black and empty.

He presses the button again and, still, nothing happens. He _did_ just drop it, but it landed on soft pine needles and snow and moss; there's no way _that_ broke it. He's absolutely sure he charged it last night. But—_oh shit!_—he just fell in the water, didn't he? His phone was in his pocket…

“_No_,” he groans.

_ **Iron oxide.** _

Eddie looks up from the screen. “Huh?”

_ **Your phone smells like iron oxide.** _

“Oh, fuck… Fuck. I forgot. _Fuck! _It's wrecked, right?” He rubs at his forehead, frustrated. “I forgot that would happen here.” He looks down and his hands are shaking. _He’s_ shaking. “I forgot,” he says again.

_Shit_. His phone is fucked, and he's freaking out. He's gonna have a goddamn panic attack if he can't calm down. Eddie tosses his phone away into the bushes because it's useless, just a pile of rust now.

He tries walking around in a circle to calm down. His breathing is the loudest thing around them, echoing off the trees and the stone house. He can't even feel Venom very well. _Hear_ them.

_God_, what the hell is happening to him?

Eddie stops and takes a deep breath, tries to let it out slowly, counting down from five. It’s almost enough, almost works. He spreads his hands out in front of him and stares down at his trembling fingers. “V? I'm really fucked up, huh? Something’s wrong. It's this place, the thing that happened to Michelle, right? I can't… I'm not thinking straight, am I?”

Venom's deep voice is tender. _**No, Eddie. **_

Eddie nods, keeps nodding. “Yeah, okay, yeah,” he says, because that makes sense. He doesn't feel right. He’s sick or something. His head is messed up. He's self-aware enough to realize that.

“Can you fix me? Can you… make my brain work like it should?”

_ **I don't know, Eddie. I'm not sure I should try. I might fuck things up even more.** _

“Yeah, you're right. You're probably right.” He probably shouldn't let a head-eating alien do brain surgery on him.

Eddie paces back and forth in front of the door. He gives in to the urge to start chewing on his finger because that’s the least of their goddamn problems right now.

Every time he glances over at that black hole, he can feel it—how much he wants to go in there_. _It's like the most intriguing mystery, all the most intense cravings he’s ever felt, for the best drugs he's ever taken all rolled into one. Like some bizarre gravity pulling at him. If Michelle felt even half of what he’s feeling right now, it’s no wonder she dove right in.

He stops and takes a step back, then another. He can't think like this at all. He's completely out of his fucking mind. It's a terrifying revelation.

So why the fuck are they still standing here?

They should get the hell away from this thing. Right now, while they still can. Take off and disappear, put as much distance between themselves and this fucked up place as they can manage. Maybe leave a message for Fury telling him what they've found, let that motherfucker deal with it, but that's all.

Fury’s people have, like, resources and shit, right? They’ll know what to do with a gateway to another planet. Even if leaving means they’ll be fugitives for the rest of their lives, then so what? At least they'll still be alive. And they’ll be together.

But… he doesn't want to leave. He wants to go in there, see what's inside, more than anything he's ever wanted in his whole damn life. Like the answer to every mystery is right in front of him, right fucking there! How can he just walk away from something like that?

Eddie shakes his head again, hard. And that seems to help bring him back down. If he really concentrates, he can feel just the edge of his connection with Venom, grounding him.

“You're not fucked up, are you?” He honestly can't tell. But he's pretty sure the near-cannibalism incident back at Rick’s house wasn't entirely his fault.

Venom takes a long moment to answer. _**Maybe a little. Not as much as you are.**_

“Yeah, okay. That's good.” That's okay, right? If Venom’s still mostly okay, then they're not completely fucked. Maybe?

_ **Eddie!** _

His head snaps up. “What?”

_ **Watch where you're going.** _

He’s gotten too close to the stone house again while he was thinking. Eddie stumbles back, away from the door, back where it's safer. “Yeah, thanks. Sorry. I'm sorry.”

_Shit_. He's gonna get them both killed.

“_Fuck_, just… don't listen to me, okay? Don't do what I tell you. You're in charge, V. Okay? You get to make the decisions now. You decide what we do. You can take over my body again, if you have to. I trust you. You know that, right?”

_**I do. **_There's another long pause, and then a rush of overwhelming emotion flooding through the link to him, the strongest, warmest, best thing he's felt from Venom in a long time. It's incredible, like staring at the sun. _**I love you, Eddie.**_

Eddie chokes._ Oh, fuck._ Why now? Why does it have to be right now? When they're standing in front of a goddamn portal to another fucking planet and he's half out of his mind?

He's been planning, thinking, waiting for the right time. Maybe Venom knew. Of course, they knew—he's not subtle. But he's been thinking about it. He'd pictured the two of them taking the bike, sitting high up in the hills at night, watching a million glittering city lights peeking out of the fog around the bay, and then… saying it then.

Eddie drops his head into his hands. “God, V… I'm so fucking sorry I got us into this. We should’ve run. I should’ve just let you eat Fury. Just… I'm so sorry.”

And life is so fucking unfair. He’s not sure whether he should laugh or cry. Both maybe? He buries his face in his hands and a weird, choked-off sob comes out of his mouth.

But if this is his only chance, he has to take it, right? He can't be a pussy forever. So he says it: “I love you, too, V. You know that, right? You can feel it?”

_ **All the time, Eddie. You don't even need to say it. I already know.** _

“Yeah.” He's not gonna cry. Not right now. He swipes uselessly at his eyes with his sleeve. “Yeah. So, uh, what”—then he has to take a deep, shuddering breath before he can go on—“so what should we do, V?”

_ **We go in.** _

“You sure?” He's so fucking hungry and tired—Venom is, too, he can feel that, at least—and they're probably gonna die if they go in there. Like, seventy to eighty percent chance of that, for sure.

_ **Yes. We are heroes. We help people. You said it yourself: Agent Savoy might be alive. We have to help her if we can.** _

“What about waiting for Fury’s people? Letting them handle it? We could just… just walk back to town, call them.”

_ **Hmmm… Weak ass humans. I’ve already been to space. I don't think Agent Fury ever has.** _

Eddie chokes out a laugh. “You're just hoping there's something to eat over there, aren't you?”

Venom chuckles, low and gentle. _**Maybe.**_

“Okay,” he says, wiping his eyes one more time, because _damn_. “Okay. We go in.”

_ **Yes. We should be heroes.** _

Eddie sighs. He can’t believe they’re actually gonna do this. Maybe they’ll be heroes, but this still has to be one of their dumber moves. And speaking of dumb moves… “Man…” He shakes his head, laughs. “Why'd you let me blow that asshole?”

_ **It was fun. But we should’ve eaten the rest of him afterward.** _

“I’m not too sure about that, bud.”

_ **You wanted to.** _

“Yeah. That's a problem. We’re gonna have to talk about that when we get out of here. _If_ we do,” he adds.

Venom chooses that moment to surge out of him, sliding over his arms and legs, covering him up. Better—they're better like this. **“Okay, Eddie, sure. Whatever you say.”**

_That sounded like bullshit, V._

Venom laughs, dark and low, but they don't say anything else. Together, they step closer to the door. _Closer_. Their sensitive eyes still can't make out anything inside. They can't smell anything. They're right in front of it now—they should be able to sense _something_. But it’s almost like there's nothing there at all.

Eddie has a sudden terrible thought. _V? What if we can't get back? What if we get stuck over there? _Maybe… he thinks, maybe that’s worse than dying.

Venom grunts. **“Then we’ll still be together. Somewhere else.”**

They hesitate for one more moment and then step forward into darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thanks so much for all the lovely comments. I cherish each and every one. I just don't have as much time as I'd like to respond right now with work and family. Anyway, here's the next bit. 
> 
> I heard you guys liked cliffhangers!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: violence, gore, discussion of suicide and mental health, general weirdness

_Sunday, Sept 1_

_Wow, the Forest of Mystery sucks. What a ripoff._

_That is all._

* * *

They walk into darkness and stumble out into bright light and howling wind.

They open their eyes cautiously in the harsh light and squint at the landscape around them.

_Uh… Guess we’re not in Bailey anymore, Toto._

A vast, flat desert, lies before them. An overcast sky, with clouds roiling and blowing past overhead. The sun is a small bright spot behind the storm. The air smells like mineral dust, like iron oxide and calcium sulfide. They can taste it.

_Just like our dreams, huh? _

_Wait… _

_Am I talking to myself? Are we?_

There is definitely something weird about the voice in their head, because it's both of their voices. At the same time. One voice.

_Are we…? Are we the same person now?_

_Uh, yes?_

_That's pretty weird._

But it's more than that. They look down at themselves and their body is subtly different under the clothes Eddie was wearing. _Is_ wearing. That they are still wearing.

_Jeez, this is confusing. _

The skin of their hands is a bizarre mix of shiny, liquid black and white. _No_, not white. Flesh-colored. Eddie’s flesh. They turn their hands over. The black looks almost like an extension of Eddie’s tattoos, as if they've spread organically over their skin. What the hell happened?

_Is this…? Are we stuck like this? How is that possible?_

They can't seem to move just the Klyntar parts inside. Or out. Because there don’t seem to be Klyntar parts. There’s no separation anymore. It's just… _them_.

“Jesus,” they say out loud. “What the hell does our face look like?” Their voice sounds strange—almost hollow, like it's coming from far away.

They reach up cautiously, touching their mouth and lips first, then reaching inside. _Teeth_. Lots and lots of fucking teeth. Definitely not human, but not really Klyntar either. Something in between, maybe.

_Fuckin’ weird, man._

They try to shoot a tendril out from their chest, and it works, but it's like flinging molasses from a spoon. Their human cells are slowing them down. They won't be able to move their matter around as quickly as they're used to. But, maybe…

They wonder if they can do more. Now that their human cells seem willing to move with them.

“Woah, what he fuck…?”

They stare down in fascination as their human fingers slowly stretch, growing claws. Bizarre claws made of both keratin and Klyntar biomatter. “Oh shit, that's fuckin’ crazy.”

Moving their combined human cells and biomatter around is a slow, strange process, requiring some concentration. The Klyntar have always relied on their host’s bodies as more of a scaffolding to build upon. They've never done anything quite like this before, not with their host’s cells along for the ride.

_Our cells, _they point out.

_Yes, ours. Ours, together. _They smile at the thought.

They feel better here, they realize. They're not starving. And they're not as fucked up. Maybe that's just because they're totally joined right now. But they don't feel as out of control as they did on the other side of the gateway. Whatever was causing the chemical imbalance in their brain has lessened. Their neurotransmitter levels are more stable here. Or maybe their brain is so different now that it doesn't matter.

_We aren't breathing much either._

_What? We’re not?_

Taking a deep breath makes them aware that they haven't actually done that for a good, long time. Only when they've spoken out loud—they still need to fill their lungs to move air past their larynx. But their human cells don't feel oxygen starved at all.

They stay still and pay attention to their breathing for a while.

_One breath every forty seconds or so._

_Huh. That's weird._

It must be the amount of oxygen in the atmosphere here. Or, that's part of it. Their rate of cellular energy consumption has also slowed, to almost undetectable levels. Hibernation levels. And, yet, they're still able to move, to live. The laws of physics as they understand them don't seem to work the same way here.

But they're okay so far. Their flesh is okay. They were worried they might encounter toxic levels of oxygen here, based on the accelerated rate of oxidation near the gateway—

_We were?_

_Yes, we were._

But their human tissue is still protective here, just as it is in Earth’s atmosphere. The oxygen isn't hurting them.

_Well, that's a fuckin’ relief. Tell me next time we’re about to do something super dangerous._

_Like travel to another dimension?_

They take another deep breath, let the air slip past their vocal chords. “Do we think that's what this is? Another dimension?” Their voice sounds more like Eddie’s now, since they started rearranging their face.

_Yes. That makes sense. _Why else would everything be so fucked up here?

The Klyntar hive mind, as vast as it is, has never encountered anything like this place. Countless different worlds, but nowhere that has broken the laws of nature as they understand them so profoundly.

They look around, considering the empty desert landscape. There are bones here, scattered around on the ground, as if the wind has blown them. Old dry bones, bleached white. Most are the bones of animals—long skulls with antlers, or a carnivore’s teeth. But some are clearly human, wearing scraps of clothing. None are recent. This is where the animals went, where the people who disappeared went. They're sure of that now.

_We should be careful here._

_Yes, it's not safe. This is a bad place. A trap._

There's the river in front of them—they can see the light glinting off the water. And, leading toward the river, an unnatural line in the rocky ground. They crouch down and brush dirt and dust away, revealing smoother, white stones. _Calcium carbonate._ This must be the road they followed.

They stand back up and follow the path of the road with their eyes. And there, in the distance near the base of the mountains, are the shapes they remember from their dreams. The wind has kicked up a thick haze of dust, so it's hard to make out what they are exactly.

_A city._ _We should go there._

_Yes, we should, _they agree. If they're going to find Michelle here, that would be the place to look. _But first…_

They turn around to look behind them. There's nothing there but more desert, the old road, stretching out to the horizon. Their strange heart thumps harder in their chest.

_Where's the gateway?_

They stagger forward, reaching out as if they might be able to feel it in the empty air. Their claws scratch and swipe, but there's nothing there.

_Nothing! It's gone, it's gone. We’re tr—_

_For fuck’s sake, stop freaking out! Calm the fuck down!_

They take a deep breath even though they don't really need to. It's just muscle memory, but it helps. “Okay,” they whisper. “Okay.” There are other senses they can use. There are _better_ senses. They close their eyes and wait, letting the wind brush against their face. They step forward, towards the spot where they must have come through.

_There!_

_What is that? That smell…_

_Oh!_

The acidic tang of pine needles. The pungent forest floor. The cool, wet smell of snow. They step forward, eyes still tightly closed, and the smells get stronger. They lift their hand again and reach out. _There_. Their skin prickles with cold. They can feel moisture on their fingertips, the light, chill brush of snowflakes.

They open their eyes. _What the…?_

Their arm just ends about four inches from their hand. There’s just… nothing there. They pull back slowly and the rest of it reappears. Their hand is still wet from melting snow.

_It's there. It's not gone, we just can't see it._

That’ll be a bitch to find again. They frown at the empty landscape. There's just nothing here.

_What if…? _

“I've got an idea,” they say out loud. They grab a few larger rocks, a couple skulls, and make a line right in front of the space where their arm disappeared. They stop and stare at their handiwork. It's obvious enough. “There.”

_Now we can find it again._

_Yes._

They start walking across the desert, following the remains of the white road, toward the purple mountains along the horizon. It's slow going, but they don't tire or become hungry. There is no drain on their resources here.

After a mile or two, they reach the river. They stop on the bank and consider the problem. It's no longer the raging torrent they remember from their dreams, but the brown water is still moving swiftly, little swirls of white foam forming and breaking apart on the surface. They look downriver at the remains of the rusted bridge. There are some other structures that look like the foundations of old buildings up and down along both banks, but none of them span the river. So that's no help.

_How do we…?_

_We walk across. We can swim if we have to._

_Yes, we’re good at swimming._

There's no point in putting it off, so they wade out into the water. It's cold and fast, but not strong enough to sweep them away. At its deepest, where the current flows slower, the water just reaches the bottom of their chest. They climb out on the far bank and shake off. The road continues over here, flagged by two eroded pillars of white stone.

They stop and look more carefully at the stone, searching for marks or any sign of the beings who built these things. But either the surface is too eroded to read, or there was never anything there to begin with.

They quickly lose track of time as they travel, even as the pale sun eventually dips lower toward the horizon. The scattered bones become scarcer the farther they get from the gateway and the river, as if nothing else that came through has ever made it this far. The constant, howling wind dries their eyes, sand stings their new skin. But they keep going.

The shapes in the distance slowly resolve themselves into a city of tall buildings. A dead city.

The closer they get, the more obvious the destruction is. The buildings must have once been impressive—delicate spires of glass and white stone that rose up into the sky, towering over the flat desert plain below. But now they're just a shattered wreck.

They walk slowly through the spaces between buildings, on a path made of more white stone. The constant wind is lessened in here, blocked by the structures looming over them. Even so, paper and other debris blow past their legs, catch on the sharp edges of the wreckage, and pile up against walls. Their feet crunch over broken glass, fragments of stone, and bits of what look, at first glance, like yellowed bone.

They stoop down to pick one up, turn it over in their hands. _Plastic_, they decide. They look back up at the remains of glass structures surrounding them.

_This whole city must’ve been made of stone, glass, and plastic. No metal._

_Yes._ That makes sense if metal oxidizes so quickly here. Whoever built this place had to use something else.

_Wonder what happened to them._

Whatever this place was, whoever once lived here, it's obviously been abandoned for a long time. There are no vehicles, no sign of anything like the remains of something that used to be alive. Only debris that looks like old paper. They grab a small piece as it flies by, lick it.

_Polysaccharide pulp. It is paper. _

_How did they make this? _they wonder.

They haven't seen any trees here, or anything that might have once been trees, just small patches of short plants that look like grass.

_Why would this be here? Why hasn't it decayed?_

The piece of paper they're holding is blank—no words, nothing. It's another mystery. They let it go and the fragment flies away again.

They pass a squat, stone building with a roof that must have been all glass at one point, over plastic beams. Most of it has caved in and shattered on the ground below. The walls here have some carvings on them—the first they've seen on anything—little groups of parallel and vertical lines in rows. They could be words, but they're not familiar with any written language like this. They get closer to look at a bigger diagram that could be a map, when the smell of smoke hits their senses. Fresh smoke, from a fire that's just been burning.

And, then, the smell of human flesh. _Living_ flesh.

_Someone’s been here. _They flick their tongue out at the air, tasting. _Someone’s still in here. _A person they've smelled before.

There’s a large doorway to their left. They go inside, stepping carefully over the twisted remains of plastic and crumbling stone. The high stone walls and the taller building next door cast the interior in deep shadows. There are thick glass walls in here, with more of the parallel line markings etched into the surface. Some of them are still standing, dividing up the dark space.

There's also a human shape, huddled back in a dark corner.

“Michelle Savoy?”

She stands up, holding a stick. _No_. A long piece of plastic with a shard of glass lashed to the end. She points her weapon in their direction. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

They step out of the shadows.

Her eyes go wide. “_Jesus Christ holy Mary mother of God_,” she says all in one breath. “What the fuck are you?”

“We’re… Eddie.” They shake their head—this is confusing as hell. “I mean, we’re Venom. I don't… Sorry.” It really sucks, being this messed up, especially right now. “We’re here to help.”

“Holy shit! You can talk?”

“Of course we can talk.” What kind of question is that? How weird do they look exactly?

They glance down. Their hands are almost normal now, except for the marble-like blending of Klyntar and human skin. Their legs, though… are a little backwards. They must have changed them without thinking while they were walking—a more efficient arrangement for bipedal locomotion.

They take a stumbling step forward, still trying to regain a more human shape. “Look, we need to—”

She jabs the plastic pole in their direction, eyes going impossibly wider. “_Do not_ come any closer.”

They try to back up, tripping over the piles of paper and broken glass, their own tangled limbs. “Sorry, sorry,” they say. “We’re not normally like this. Something… something happened to us when we came through the gateway. We’re just… really mixed up.” If they could just be more _Eddie_ right now, that would be pretty fucking great.

“What do you want?” she demands.

“We’re here—I mean, _I'm here_—we are, sorry! _I'm_ here to rescue you.” This pronoun thing has suddenly gotten a lot more complicated.

“You don't sound very sure about that.”

They're not, but she doesn't need to know that. “It's true. We swear!”

Michelle looks unconvinced, but she hasn't stabbed them yet. So, there's that.

“Look”—they hold their hands up, trying their best to look harmless—”I promise we’re just here to help. Nick Fury sent us to find you. Sent _me_.” _Damn it._

“Fury sent you?” Her eyes narrow, but the pole dips just slightly. “Prove it. Describe him.”

“Uh… Black guy, eyepatch, leather jacket, bald, super scary, looked delicious.” _Shit—_that last part just slipped out.

She thinks this over, chews on her lower lip. “Sounds about right. Why you?”

They blink at her, confused. “Why us?”

“Yes, why did he send you? Director Fury has trained people to handle shit like this. He’s got a stable of superheroes at his beck and call. You're obviously not one of them. I mean… You say you're not always like this, but—_no offense_—you look like Jeff Goldblum in _The Fly_ right now.”

_Christ_.

“Look. It wasn't exactly our choice to come here, alright? We’re… _I’m_ just a journalist. And, honestly? I don't think Fury thought we'd actually find you. So, you know…” _They_ didn't think they'd find her. “I’m sorry we're not a superhero. But we’re here now, and I don't see you getting any better offers, so…”

Her face softens. “You’re right. Sorry about the Jeff Goldblum thing. I'm just a little stressed out here.”

“‘S okay. Jeff Goldblum is actually pretty awesome.” They eye the pole warily. “Are you still gonna stab us with that thing?”

“No.” She finally lowers it, shrugging. “Not unless you try something.”

“We won’t. Promise.”

Now that they're closer, Michelle doesn't look bad at all, for someone trapped for a month in another dimension. She's dressed like someone who just stepped out for a short hike—shorts and a t-shirt with a flannel over it. Her hair is maybe a little longer than it was in the photos. She doesn't even look that dirty, just a little dusty. Her legs are all scratched up—new wounds that haven't healed yet, based on the smell of them—but that's it. She seems… _fine_, actually. They wonder what she's been eating out here. And if there's any left for them.

_Maybe we wouldn’t need to eat at all here. _

It’s true that they’re still not hungry, even after walking for hours and performing a number of massive tissue rearrangements. The thought of not stressing about food feels like freedom. They're so damn tired of being hungry all the time.

The remains of the fire are still smoldering. Michelle crouches down and pokes at it with the blunt end of the stick, sending a cloud of sparks and ash up into the air. They step back, away from the fire. They don't like fire.

“So… Fury sent you to Bailey to find me, huh? Did you go half-crazy and get pulled in here, too?”

They chuckle, keeping an eye on a drifting ember. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well…” Michelle stands back up and brushes her hands off. “That was fast.”

“What was fast?”

“Fury sending some crazy monster after me. I can't even go three days without answering my phone…” She shakes her head, but she's smiling a little. “Guess I should be grateful for that.”

“Uh…” they say, stupidly.

“What is it?”

“Hmmm…” They scratch the side of their head, stalling for time. They still have hair, apparently. “How long do you think you've been here?”

“Almost two days. Why?”

“Well, shit,” they say. Because this is a complication they hadn't considered yet, but maybe it explains why she's still alive at all.

“_What?_” she demands.

“It's just, uh… You've actually been missing for more than a month.” If she thinks it's been just two days, that means time must not work the same over here, which means—

“You've got to be shittin’ me! What's the date today?”

“October 19th.”

She suddenly looks like she wants to poke them with her stick again. “You're lying.”

“Nope. Sorry.” And, based on how long Michelle’s two days have been, they've been over here for almost a week already. Annie’s probably going nuts…

_This is bad. _

_Yep._

“If they've been searching for me for over a month, where’s Fury? Where's the team? Why is it just you?”

“Uh, yeah. About that…”

“_What?_”

“Before you disappeared, you wrote some stuff in your journal… Some pretty messed up stuff that made people think you might’ve had a kind of mental breakdown and maybe, uh… gone out into the forest and hurt yourself,” they say gently. “So, basically, everyone assumed the worst. The FBI and the local sheriff already closed their investigations. They aren't searching for you anymore.” That's kind of _a lot_. And they feel bad she had to hear it from them.

Michelle is silent for a long time, staring at them. She crouches down by the fire again, pokes it half-heartedly, gets up and walks around slowly with her hand over her mouth.

They just wait.

“Damn,” she says finally, and her eyes have gone a little red. “Well, that's… I just… _Shit_. My sister, Mari… And Jess. I can only imagine what they’ve been going through, you know? Having to deal with all that? Thinking _that…_ ”

“Yeah.”

“But Fury didn't give up on me.”

“No, he didn't give up.” As much as they hate the guy, he was right.

“Yeah. He wouldn't, I suppose.” She wipes her eyes on her sleeve, clears her throat. “So… what’s your name? And what are you? Is that rude of me to ask?”

They chuckle. “Uh, not too rude. I don't know what we are right now. We’re actually two people—or we used to be, I guess. We _used_ to be Eddie from New York and Venom of the Klyntar. We were_—are—_symbiotes. We shared one body. But, right now, we’re just one thing. We got kind of stuck together when we came through the gateway to this dimension.”

She snorts. “Okay, Eddie from New York and Venom from Klimber or whatever. Sure. You really think this is another dimension? _Really?_”

They scowl at her. “It's _Klyntar_. And, yeah, we do.”

She shakes her head. “Man, this whole thing is getting a little too _Dark Tower_ for me. I'm just sad Idris Elba hasn't shown up. No offense, but… the things I'd do to that man… _mmhmm_.”

They stare at her blankly.

“The Dark Tower? They're books. You know… Wastelands? Gunslingers? Giant robot bear? Eddie from New York? They made a movie a few years ago. It sucked, but… _Really_, nothing?”

They frown at the implication that they don't know anything about pop culture. “No, I know. Stephen King, right? They made a movie out of that?” Wasn't that, like, a lot of books? Maybe they don't actually know anything about pop culture…

“Yes, they did.” She looks around at the crumbling stone walls, the broken glass. “And if we ever get the hell out of here, I definitely never want to see it again.” She turns back to them, eyes sharp. “So, what makes you think this is another dimension? Aside from the time thing, because that could all be explained by gravitational time dilation if this planet happens to be near a super massive object.”

_Uh, is… is that something that happens?_

_Not sure._

They frown. “I don't know anything about that, but… How long has it been since you've eaten?”

“Two days for me.”

“Are you even hungry?”

She has to think about it for a second. “No. But that could totally be a stress thing—I don't eat when I’ve got a lot going on.”

“Well, it's different for us—we need to eat all the damn time. And we’re not even hungry here. Are you thirsty?” Because they've just realized they're not thirsty either, even after that trek through the desert.

“No, but—”

“What about”—they gesture at their face—”the not-breathing thing?”

Michelle puts her hands on her hips. “Higher atmospheric oxygen. Diffusion is going to be enough for gas exchange.”

_This argument is a pointless waste of time._

_We agree._

They sigh. “Okay, if it's another dimension or just a really fucked up planet, what difference does it make? We still need to get out of here.” They're not hungry—that's one advantage—but who knows what will happen if they’re trapped here for too long. “So, unless you want to stay here forever. Let’s go.”

Michelle shakes her head. “Believe me, I’ve tried. I walked all the way back across the desert yesterday, crossed the river. But I couldn't find the way out. There's nothing there anymore. However I got through, it's just… it's gone. And when the sun started to set, I worried I’d get lost out there, so I turned around and walked back. I got here just as it got dark…” She pauses, and a shiver goes through her. “And then _they_ came…”

“Who came?” They suddenly remember all the bones they passed along the way. The human bones. _Shit_.

“I don't know what they are. Honestly, they look like zombies to me, like something from _The Walking Dead_. My roommate loves that damn show. That's all I can think of when I see them. They're white and disgusting. Some of them look like they used to be people. And some… _don't_. They only come out at night. I barely made it back here yesterday. I made a fire. It was the only thing I could think of. They don't like the light, you see—they won't come near it. But fires burn out so fast here… I'm not sure I have enough fuel to last another night. I've spent the whole day gathering as much as I could find…”

They look around at the piles and piles of paper and cardboard. _Fuck_. “How many of these zombie things are there?”

“I don't know._ A lot. _They wouldn't come in here, but I could hear them outside. All goddamn night. They live underground during the day, I think. Somewhere in the city. And I saw some tunnels under those old buildings out by the river. I think some of them must live over there. They really don't like the light.”

They look around. Are there more shadows? Has it already gotten darker since they've been talking? “How long until sunset?”

“Two, maybe three hours? The sun takes a long time to set here.”

That might be enough time to get back across the desert, but they'd be cutting it close. Plus, they’ll need time to find the gateway again…

_We could—_

_Oh, yes! Good idea._

They close their eyes and try to imagine the shape they need. Something fast, something dangerous, something adapted to life in the desert. After a few seconds, their matter starts to shift.

Michelle takes a step back in alarm. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Changing shape,” they mutter. It's easier this time—their flesh bends to their will more readily, flowing smoothly. They fall forward onto their front limbs as their back lengthens and stretches, fingers shortening, merging into wider paws. Their sharp claws dig into the ground. The change doesn't hurt, but it still feels weird as fuck. Their human cells moving just a little out of sync with their Klyntar parts.

They catch their reflection in a pane of glass behind Michelle. A dark shape, striped with lighter bands of human skin, long and low. Their white eyes flash in the dim light. They snarl at their reflection, revealing a pair of dagger-like fangs. They could almost be a tiger, if you squint.

_A sefir, _they remember. An apex predator from the vast deserts of Soras 3. They once spent almost an entire rotation inside one, prowling, hunting—a king of the wastes! Until some asshole with a sonic weapon drove them out and slaughtered their poor host.

_Good times._

They pad over to Michelle and crouch down low in front of her. “Get on.” Their voice has changed again—grown guttural. Their new throat and teeth, they guess.

She takes a step back. “_What the f_—You want me to _ride_ you?”

“Yes. Get on. We can find the gateway. But we don't have much time until sundown.”

Michelle hesitates, looking at the long shadows stretching around them. She rubs at her arms, and shivers. “_Fuck_. Okay, yeah. You're right. Let's get the hell out of here.” She picks up her makeshift spear. “I'm bringing this, though.”

She's not heavy. They wait until she seems settled on their back, with her spear tucked into her belt, and then stand. Michelle’s legs tighten against their sides, but she stays on. They start off at a walk, trying to keep their gait as smooth as possible. They've never been ridden before. Not like this, anyway.

“Hold on. We’re gonna move.”

“This is the weirdest fucking shit that has ever happened,” Michelle mutters, but she drapes herself over their back and her arms wrap around their thick neck, tentatively at first and then tighter. “Okay, okay,” she whispers.

The bright light outside makes it hard to see for a moment. Their new eyes are almost too sensitive. They blink a few times, adjusting. There's the white road. They break into an easy lope, remembering how it felt to be a sefir, to move like one. It all comes back to them quickly.

Michelle mutters, “Oh shit!” and her arms grab at their neck as they pick up speed.

Once they’ve left the wreckage of the city behind, with nothing but the flat, empty desert in front of them, they stretch out their legs and really start to move.

* * *

The small sun sets slowly, dipping down low and turning the light around them first orange then purple. One moon rises over the distant mountains, looming huge and bright on the horizon. A second, smaller moon soon follows, cold, blue glow peeking out occasionally from behind the clouds. The relentless wind finally dies away as the light fades.

They race across the desert, flying over the rocks in their path, the pitted road, never tiring, never slowing. Michelle is a silent weight on their back, face tucked down against them to keep the worst of the dust out of her eyes.

Crossing the river is more challenging with a rider. They lengthen their legs as much as they can to keep away from the water, but it's difficult to shift their limited mass around and still maintain a large enough size to carry a person. Still, they make it across, just a little bit wet.

True night falls as the large moon sets. The smaller moon’s cold light is a dim echo.

They move more slowly on the other side, trying to pick up the scent of the gateway in the dark. The air has turned colder, now that the sun has set.

Michelle shivers against their back, huddles in closer. “So, where did Fury find you guys?”

They snarl almost involuntarily, remembering what happened, how helpless they felt. “He stole us!” Their voice comes out garbled and broken.

Michelle tenses against them.

“Sorry,” they say. They shorten their teeth so they can speak more easily. They don't want to make her afraid—they're not like that. “Sorry. We just… we didn't want to come here. Fury kidnapped and threatened us. He said he'd think about letting us go if we helped him find you.”

Michelle relaxes again, but her voice is softer, a little sad. “I'm sorry,” she says. “That sounds like something he’d do. I’m sorry he did that to you. I don't agree with a lot of Fury’s methods, but he must’ve had some reason he needed you for this job. And maybe he was right. That doesn't make what he did okay. It's just… kind of the way he gets people to work for him.”

“He kidnapped you, too?”

She chuckles. “No. SHIELD recruited me out of the FBI, offered me something more exciting than financial crimes. And then when all that shit went down with Hydra, I chose to stay with Director Fury.”

They remember that well. They even wrote a piece about it, documenting the history of secret fascist organizations in America. Got some good reviews.

“Fury’s not all that bad,” Michelle continues. “He's actually a big softy, once you get to know him. Hey, you should turn into a cat for him. The guy really—”

They stop abruptly. “Shhh,” they say.

They can hear a new sound from out in the night. They lift their head high, trying to listen. They're aware of Michelle sitting up on their back.

Their sefir ears aren't the best they've ever had, but they're decent. The sound is almost like the wind or the rush of water. “What is—?”

“It's them,” Michelle says, her fear suddenly washes over them, electrifying and sharp. “The zombies.” She pulls the spear from her belt. “They're coming.”

They can see them now. Back the way they came. The moonlight glints white off of their pale skin. They don't look much like zombies to them—not like something dead, although their bodies are odd. Almost like they've been cobbled together from mismatched parts. Some do look almost human, running on two legs, roughly the right shape. But others look more like animals or maybe aliens. One is moving along on six stumpy limbs. Another looks like a hairless bear, except it has two heads.

_What the hell are they?_

_We don't know—never seen anything like them. Whatever they are, there's a hell of a lot of ‘em._

_Yeah, too many… and they're fast!_

Michelle thumps their sides with her legs. “Guys? Um, hello? The zombies are getting closer.”

They look around. They don't remember this place exactly, but they can't be too far from the gateway, even if they can't smell it yet or see the line they made.

“We’re almost there. Hang on!” They take off at a dead run again, still following the road. There's no cover out here, no higher ground. But if they can just back through before the zombies reach them…

_There it is!_

_Yes, there! The line!_

It's not far, just a few more seconds and they’ll be there.

Unfortunately, the zombies are almost as fast as they are. And some must have been flanking them the whole time, undetected, because the first wave of the things catch up to them just before they reach the line of rocks.

_Shit! _They're not going to make it. They stop running and whirl around to face the creatures.

“_What the fuck?_” Michelle shouts.

“We’ll have to fight them. Stay on our back!” That's the safest place for her right now. They spread tendrils out, lash them around her legs and waist, anchoring her in place.

The first creature to reach them rushes forward and they swipe at it with a front paw, claws digging deep and slicing through oddly soft, dry flesh. The thing flies off and hits another one, knocking both of them down. The one they hit clutches at the furrows gouged by their claws, keening and writhing on the ground. Thick black ichor pours from the wounds.

At least they can be injured. They were worried the creatures might follow movie zombie rules. Then they'd truly be fucked.

Michelle screams, “_Look out!_”

Another creature leaps at them from the side. It's a blur of flailing limbs, wide open jaws and sharp, crooked teeth. They whirl around, but the thing manages to grab them and sink its short teeth into their haunch.

_It stings! _They roar and twist, reaching back to grab its head in their jaws and rip it off of them. The skull crumbles like brittle leaves in their mouth, whatever’s inside squishes between their teeth, and they swallow it down.

_Ugh, no good_.

Doesn't taste like brains. Tastes like nothing at all—like eating wet paper. They spit out the residue left in their mouth, trying to get the taste off their tongue.

_Fuckin’ gross man. That's worse than gefilte fish!_

“Eddie and whatever the fuck your name is! More are coming!” Michelle warns. She lifts her spear, swinging it around over their head.

A creature with small, stubby antlers and a mouth full of blackened teeth runs at their side. Michelle levels her spear at it and the glass tip stabs deep into the thing’s shoulder before the end breaks off. The zombie screeches and swats the pole away. Michelle whips it back up around and shoves it into the zombie’s chest, knocking it flat on its back.

They finish tearing off the head of another creature and pounce on the one Michelle knocked down, ripping its throat out. They still taste like shit.

More zombies reach them in the second they took to rip apart the last one.

Michelle’s using her pole as a lance, shoving the creatures back as they buck, and spin, and kick, trying to keep any from grabbing on. “Guys! There are too many of these things!”

_She's right! Too many!_

_We gotta find the gateway! _

They can't win this battle. They're gonna get eaten alive if they stay here. Retreat is their only chance.

They look around frantically, but they can't see the line anymore.

_Where is it? It was right here!_

_Shit! It's gone! _

The rocks and skulls must have been kicked away in the scuffle. Their line is gone.

_We can still find it. The smell, remember?_

_Yes. But we have to—_

A three-limbed zombie is grabbing at Michelle’s leg, trying to pull her into its mouth. She swings her pole at its head and knocks it back. But before they can grab that one, another one comes at them from the other side and bites down on their back. They twist around, throwing it off, and it tears away a big chunk of their matter.

_Fuck, man!_

They're changing faster now, a frenzy of matter twisting and reforming. They unhinge their jaw and lunge at the zombie that bit them, swallowing it down whole. It's still not satisfying like food, but at least they can reabsorb the part of themselves the thing stole.

“_Jesus Christ!_” Michelle says from her perch on their back. They're not sure if she's talking about them or the zombie horde.

_We have to… We can't let them bite Michelle. She can't heal like we can._

_No shit._

Zombies are tearing at them from all sides, biting, grabbing, trying to pull their matter away from Michelle. She's swearing and whacking at them with her pole, but the things keep coming back.

They bite and rip and claw back, tearing the creatures apart in a frenzy. But the zombies still keep coming. They're covered in ichor and scraps of disgusting white flesh. It's not enough. As fast as they can allocate more biomatter to cover Michelle, the zombies tear it away—they're losing too much of themselves. They can't eat all of them.

_She's right! Too many!_

_We gotta find the gateway! _

They wrap themselves completely around Michelle, enfolding her in a protective embrace. She kicks and fights them, but she’s safer in there. They close their eyes, trying desperately to sense the gateway.

Zombies claw and bite at them from all sides. They're being torn apart!

_It hurts! _

It has to be here, it has to be…

_Hurts! Can’t, we can't… They're eating us!_

_There! Right there!_

They catch the smell of home—pines and wet snow. It's there. Right in front of them! They grab on to Michelle, close their eyes, and run straight through.

* * *

Eddie wakes up somewhere dark. Quiet, too. He’s lying on his back in something wet and cold. Snow? Michelle is on top of him, head tucked against his neck, breathing hard. Eddie stares up at the sky, blinking. He can see stars beyond the dark shapes of trees. _Trees…_

They're home!

He's still got his arms—_his_ arms, he’s happy to note, familiar tattoos and all—wrapped around Michelle. He's shaking with adrenaline and hunger, which has just come roaring back, more urgent than ever, but he can't quite let go. He’s probably squeezing her too hard.

She lifts her head slowly, blinks at the forest around them, the bright snow, then down at him. And her face breaks into that smile Eddie remembers from the photo in Fury’s box—the first real smile. “You must be Eddie from New York,” she says. Her breath makes a cloud in the cold air.

Eddie can't help smiling, too, because—_holy shit!_—they're alive! He has no fucking idea how that's possible, but they're alive! “Yeah, that's… that's me.”

“You're actually kinda cute when you're not a crazy monster.” She looks around. “Where's your other half?”

Good question… “V? You there?”

A feeling of warmth floods through him. _**Yes, Eddie. Tired. **_

_Yeah, me too, bud. _But he's so happy he's grinning like an idiot. “Venom’s here, too. We made it,” he says. He feels ridiculously giddy. It's probably just a severe caloric deficit, but whatever…

Then he remembers what they were just doing. _Shit._ “Did any come through?”

Michelle pushes against him and Eddie finally lets go, helps her to her feet. They both take a moment to look around. The clearing is silent, except for the sound of their breathing, the wind in the trees. The stone house is there, right behind them, looking as ominous as ever, but there’s no sign of any zombies.

He can feel something, though, like a faint echo of the madness that brought him here in the first place. He can imagine throwing himself back through the gateway to be eaten alive.

He shudders.

“No,” Michelle says. She’s staring at the gateway, too, that endless black. “I think… I think we’re safe. But let's get the fuck away from this thing.”

“Yeah, I think… Good idea.” It's really fucking cold, though. Eddie wonders what month it is. November? December, maybe?

He's still wearing just a t-shirt and no shoes. And Michelle’s got her hiking shorts and a flannel. She's already clutching her arms and shivering. He probably won't freeze out here, but she might.

“We gotta get some help,” he says. He can't remember how far it is to town. Rick’s place is closer—they walked from there, right? He vaguely remembers that. “There’s a cabin nearby.” If Rick’s not home, they’ll just break in.

“Sounds like a plan. It's f-freezing out here. _Shit_, it's really been months, hasn't it?”

“Yeah, it's been months.” He can't quite believe they actually did it. They found Michelle alive in another fucking dimension and brought her back here. And they didn't fuckin’ die. How crazy is that?

_ **I told you we could do it, Eddie. We’re superheroes.** _

_Oh, we’re super now, too, huh?_

Michelle must notice the big, stupid grin on his face. “Your f-friend say something funny?”

“Yeah. My friend says Fury owes us big time.”

* * *

The hike to the cabin is cold and miserable.

Eddie’s starting to regret thinking they were safe, because he's come to the realization that they could still totally die out here.

It's _really_ goddamn cold.

Venom comes out around him, slow and creeping, and the two of them end up carrying Michelle most of the way, keeping her as sheltered as they can from the wind and cold. Still, they're both weak and starving, and the simple act of carrying a single person is almost too much for them.

Eddie stumbles in the snow when Venom melts back inside him without warning, grabbing onto Michelle. He just manages to set her down on her feet. “V? You okay? _Hey! _You alright?” He's trying hard not to panic.

_**Tired… **_Venom’s voice is so small. _**Can’t… **_

“Okay. Yeah, okay. I've got this, V. Just rest.” Eddie looks around. They've got to be close now. But he's so fucking hungry he feels hollow inside…

“D-down there…” Michelle points somewhere off through the dark line of trees. “Is that a light, or am I hallucinating?”

Eddie can just see it, glinting down in the valley. Maybe he's hallucinating now, too. “It's a light, I think. Come on, we gotta keep moving.”

The light isn’t a hallucination. And, luckily, it _is_ the cabin. They practically slide down the snowbank onto the gravel drive. It's been plowed recently, and there's an old pickup truck parked there with a Forest Service logo on the side.

“Oh, thank God,” Michelle moans.

There’s no smoke coming from the chimney of the A-frame, and only a single dim, blue light on over the door. “We’ll break in if we have to,” Eddie says, as they step onto the porch. _Fuck_, he's so hungry he's shaking now. He can feel Venom just curled up inside, small and miserable.

“Yeah, g-good call,” Michelle replies.

The door flies open before he can knock. Ranger Rick is standing there in a bathrobe, hair mussed.

“Uh, hey,” Eddie says.

“What the…? I thought I heard voices out here.” Rick looks back and forth between them, and then seems to register what he's seeing. “_Holy crap!_ Eddie? And, and is that…? What the heck? I thought you… How did you…? Where did you…?”

“Long story. We’re freezing. Can we come in?”

“Yes! Yes, come in. Sorry. _God_, get in here!” He ushers them inside and shuts the door. “Where did you…? How…? I can't believe this,” he mutters, shaking his head.

It's pretty dim in here—just that one harsh blue light he remembers from before—but at least it's warm. Eddie squints at the crappy furniture. Michelle shivers beside him.

Rick is a flurry of movement around them. “Um, yeah, um… Let me get something to warm you up. Hold on a sec. Don't move.” He takes off down the hall, leaving them standing there.

Eddie shudders. He feels really sick all of a sudden, like everything’s just hitting him at once now that they're not fighting for their lives.

He tries to take a step forward, but stumbles a little. Michelle grabs his arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I think. Just… just really drained.” He feels pretty dizzy, actually.

“Here, here.” Rick comes rushing back in carrying two blankets.

Michelle accepts one and wraps it around her body. “Th-thank you.”

Eddie takes the other one when Rick pushes it at him. “Do you have anything to eat?” His whole body is pretty much shaking now that the last of the adrenaline has worn off. His legs feel like they might collapse. “Chocolate? Raw meat?” He's not gonna worry right now about asking for something so strange. This is an emergency.

Rick just kind of blinks at him. “Uh… yeah. Why don't you sit down before you fall over. I'll be right back.”

Michelle actually helps him over to the table and into a chair. He’s shaking so much his teeth are chattering. She pulls the blanket out of his hands and drapes it over his shoulders. Her hand brushes his forehead for a second. “Are you cold?”

“Nah. Just hungry.”

Michelle sits down across from him, still wrapped in her blanket. “Raw meat and chocolate? Really?”

He tries to shrug. It comes out like more of a spasm. “It's what we need.” He probably shouldn't mention the head-eating thing right now.

“I still don't feel that hungry,” she says. “And I can't believe it's snowing. It was summer when I left.”

Rick comes back a minute later with a large plate of cut-up steak and a handful of chocolate bars, some more normal things, like a package of cookies. He sets them on the table in front of Eddie.

“Thanks,” Eddie manages to mumble before he's stuffing the raw meat in his mouth. No time for chewing—he just swallows it whole. His other hand is already reaching for a candy bar. If it's Venom or it's him driving them right now, he doesn't care—they're both desperate. He shoves the chocolate into his mouth, wrapper and all, and swallows. It's a little dry going down.

“Um… I'm going to make some tea,” Rick says, before walking away back down the hall.

Michelle is staring at him from across the table. “You okay there?”

Eddie coughs, manages to turn it into a laugh. “You saw me turn into an alien tiger and eat a whole zombie, and _this_ is freaking you out?” He picks up another chocolate bar and eats that, too.

“It's just… the wrappers. That's a little weird.”

Michelle eats a cookie, watches until he's finished everything off. “Better?” she asks when he's done.

“Yeah.” It's still not enough, but it takes the edge off their hunger. He's not shaking so much anymore. The dizziness is fading. Venom sighs happily from somewhere inside him.

Rick comes back carrying a tray with a teapot and mugs, he doesn't mention the empty plate, the lack of wrappers.

Michelle accepts a cup of tea with thanks. Rick pours one for Eddie and sets it in front of him.

_**Dried plant extract,**_ Venom says with disdain.

“Uh, thanks,” Eddie says. He takes a sip. Maybe it’ll wash the taste of wrapper out of his mouth. It's warm, anyway. Now that he's not fighting for his life, he's getting a little chilled.

Rick sits down at the table with them, practically vibrating with energy. “When you guys are ready, you have to tell me what happened out there. I can't even imagine…” He shakes his head. “I mean, I bet you two have quite a story.”

“It's a _long_ story,” Michelle says, in a kind of final way that implies she's not going to tell it right now.

Eddie just nods. He doesn't really want to talk about it either. He's tired. Venom’s tired. They lost a lot of their matter back there. He just wants to sleep and eat, not necessarily in that order. And, more than anything, he wants to go home.

_**Me, too, Eddie. Home… **_Venom’s voice is so full of longing, Eddie smiles.

_Yeah, bud. _

His long silence must’ve been too much for Rick to handle. “Are you sick, Eddie? You don't look quite right.” The guy reaches out for his face and he flinches away.

It's actually hard not to growl at him. Or eat him. Venom certainly wants to. “Uh, yeah. I'm fine,” he says, instead.

Rick sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “_Fine_. Whatever. You're fine. You’re immune to hypothermia.”

Michelle’s sharp eyes flick back and forth between them.

Eddie coughs into his mug. “Can we use your phone? We need to call someone. We've got kind of a situation here.” He gives Michelle a meaningful look, and she nods back.

Rick frowns. “Well, darn. I'm sorry. I don't have a phone. You know, off the grid and all. But I've got a radio in my truck.” He gets up from the table. “I'll go call the sheriff. Get him to send some help out this way.”

“Why don't you just give us a lift into town?” Eddie asks, because wouldn't that be easier?

“Sorry. Yeah, you're right. It would, but I've got engine trouble. Been working on it for the past week. Still haven't got it running yet.”

“Okay,” Eddie says slowly.

“Right,” Rick says. “I’ll be right back.”

Michelle waits until the front door shuts behind him. “You two have some history or something?”

Eddie snorts. “Uh, yeah. Guess you could say that.” He really doesn't want to explain the whole blowjob thing, would honestly rather just forget that happened at all. “He's just… he’s kind of a dick.” He shrugs, takes another sip of his tea.

“I don't know, he seems pretty okay to me. Except the boy doesn't know when to shut up. Don't think I've ever met someone who could talk about campfire safety for two hours.” She takes a sip of her tea.

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, you're right. He’s—” He freezes, suddenly going cold. “_Wait…_ What did you just say?”

_ **Eddie? What's wrong?** _

Michelle's looking at him curiously over the rim of her cup. “Um… I said he likes to talk about campfire safety?” she says slowly.

“How could you know that if you’ve never met him before?”

“I _have _met him before.”

“When?”

“Maybe… three days ago. I mean, it was a month ago, really, but it feels like three days ago to me. In the woods. Right before I got lost over there. I couldn't get away from the guy. He _did_ give me some tips for good places to shoot, though.”

“It's just… he told me he never even saw you before you got lost.” That's right, isn't it? He doesn't forget shit like that, not when he's working on a story. “You sure you met_ that_ guy?” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder, toward the door. “Ranger Rick? Not someone else?”

Michelle shoots him an annoyed look. “I'm pretty sure he's the same guy, but you know all you white people look the same to us, right?”

Why would Rick lie? It doesn't make sense unless…

_Fuck_.

_ **Eddie. The windows.** _

_Oh, yeah. Hold on._

He gets up on unsteady legs and walks over to the nearest window. There's a pair of heavy blackout drapes drawn across it. His heart’s suddenly pounding in his chest. It's so dark in here. It was dark the last time they were here, too.

“Mind telling me what's going on?” Michelle says.

Eddie pulls back the drapes, whispers, “_Oh, shit_…” There's no window here at all, just a bare wall. Which means…

Venom growls low. _**He's one of them.**_

“We’re in trouble,” Eddie says, turning back to Michelle.

She's already standing up, pushing away from the table. “You telling me he's one of those zombie creatures?”

“Yeah. They don't like the light, remember?”

“So that means…”

Eddie nods. “He's probably not calling the sheriff.”

“_Fuck_.”

“Yeah. We gotta get out of here.”

“The door,” Michelle says.

They rush toward it. Eddie reaches for the doorknob.

_ **I can hear something.** _

Michelle bumps into him. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

He can hear it now, too. Outside. The sound of many feet in the snow and on gravel, the sound of harsh breathing, snarling, animal noises. Too many. More than just Rick.

_Shit._ Who the fuck did he call?

_ **They’re here. The creatures.** _

Eddie turns back to Michelle. “I think... we’re surrounded,” he says.


End file.
